


A Crimson Stained Lotus

by TwilightsDawn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Tom Riddle, F/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Time Travel, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightsDawn/pseuds/TwilightsDawn
Summary: Her tears blind her as she runs, runs as fast as she can. Her hand clutches around a broken hourglass pendant. She doesn't know it’s importance but the police officer that found her has to pry it out of her small hands, as she is gripping the shards of glass and metal too tightly. She is treated and sent to a place called Wool’s and she knows then for sure  that her family is dead, though she probably could have already guessed that what with all the dreams of people trying to find and kill her and all that.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Voldemort
Comments: 87
Kudos: 311
Collections: Hermione being awesome





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read. 
> 
> The plan is for this to be very dark. Hermione and Tom's relationship is not the twisted and dark part. The dark elements are based more on their experiences as children growing up at wools and the horrors they are subjected to. It all adds up, a world that has no love forages people that act in kind.

The sky is a dark blue and black color, it's covered in thick clouds that are moving low, silver, and gray mixing like smoke. She looks up at it and she can feel the cold of the rainwater under her, and against her face. It makes her shiver as the water trickles down her cheeks mixing with the hot tears. She can hardly see she is crying so hard. In her young life, she reflects that she probably never has cried this hard about anything before.

But then she has never felt so in pain before. 

Her breaths are ragged, she was seconds ago in a basement of sorts. But now she is on the hard concrete. She remembers the heavens opening up to meet her, she tumbled out of them. Her hair had whipped into her face, and she had grabbed at the nothing that had been around her. Her skirt had billowed around her. The rush of the wind had stolen the air from her lungs and ripped at her sides. She had no way to brace for how hard that she would hit. She had just smacked into the earth. By all that she can tell she should not be alive. 

But then that was her and she was a girl that defied logic. She was too bright for her own well being. Her parents always told her to stop taking things apart to see how they worked. They didn’t understand the things that happened around her. 

'Where was her mother?' She blinked back tears, sniffling and choking on her own spit that is in her throat. 

She doesn’t know how she got here. It seems familiar and yet not. She thinks she has seen buildings like this on TV. It's an alleyway that much she knows. But she still fell from the sky to this location. Her sudden downward spiral into the pavement might have to do with the thing that she is holding, clutching to her chest. She can't let it go through even as it bites into her skin. The golden chain will not slip from her fingers. 

It hurts, everything hurts. 

She gets up slowly, blood leaking around her head as she rolls to her side. She can feel the heat to it, but even as she does try to put her knees under her it is as if the injury is slowly knitting itself together just by her begging whatever strange things that happen around her to help her. She begs it to act and so it hears her plea and it does what needs to be done, much like the times that she has needed to fix one of the things that she has taken apart. 

Her vision is still swimming and she can hardly move. But once she is on her feet. They instinctively tell her to move. And so she does, one foot after another, her legs wobble. Her small black buckled shoes right themselves on the pavement, as her knee pops back into place. And soon she is doing more than walking, she is taking off as if hell is chasing her. 

She suddenly is reminded of the dangers that she has not thought about, laying on the ground. She has no idea where she is. She is running, her little legs are not able to go as fast as she needs them. She needs help, she holds tight to the thing in her hands, the thing that saved her. And she collides into the nearest person that has an umbrella. He tries to grab at her as she tumbles, but she skirts away. 

She needs an officer, police officers are supposed to help people like her. Girls that are lost. Her mother has always told her to find one if she is lost. And the man that she has hit is not one of them. So she can't trust him. 

She can not tell if he is one of them. The bad ones. One of the people that took her from her home. 

She doesn’t recognize anything as she runs, it's a blur of noise and city lights. She doesn’t live in the city. She has never been to a city though she has seen them on TV. She is in a world of strangers, they are not wearing what the man and woman that took her are wearing. But they are not wearing what she is used to seeing people wearing. 

She feels like she has fallen into a storybook where everything looks different, even the cars. It is all real enough to make her know that it is really happening but that is about it. She eventually stops running. She ducks down under an awning and watches the water drip. It's warmer there close to the building and she shivers. Her wet hair is plastered against her skelp and she doesn’t like it. She hates it really, but she has always hated her hair. 

She scrubs at her face, she is cold and she is tired. And she is more than anything scared. Her heart will not stop beating fast and she flinches when she hears car doors slam, and when someone gets to close. She pulls her legs closer to herself so that she can be warmer. And opens her hand that is causing her the most amount of pain. She opens her hand just slightly, there is glass in it, but she can not drop it, it is something that she needs. It was the thing that the woman was wearing. It is the thing that allowed her to get away, it got her here. 

Her memories are scattered. She remembers a robed woman taking her, hitting her, and it gets blurry. She knows though that the woman wanted to hurt her. She had ripped out some of her hair. And she had yanked on this very necklace. It hurts her hand to hold it, but it's oddly comforting even with the crushed glass shards, and the golden metallic frame. 

It was an hourglass. She knows that much, it had glowed with golden light when she had yanked it. She turns in time to see a man he bends down next to her. Slowly reaching out to her. She shifts and tries to get up and away from here. 

“It’s okay” He is trying to reason with her, but he is strange and she doesn’t want him to touch her. 

“What happened, and where are your parents?” He asks softly and she shakes her head again and vigorously. 

She wants him to get out of her space. 

He backs off a little and she untenses. 

“I will not hurt you, are you lost?” He continues talking in a gentle tone. His mustache raises as he speaks it looks sort of funny. But she can not laugh, she is not comfortable enough to. Her heart is starting to speed again. 

But she nods slowly. 

He nods back to her. “I thought so.” He sits down and his pants start to absorb the water on the pavement. It can not be a nice feeling. “You are bleeding, and it's cold out here. It can’t be comfortable.” 

“It’s not,'' she says softly.

He moves a hair closer, but she doesn’t move and he moves again. 

“I am a police officer, my name is Charles. What’s yours.”

“Hermione.” She answers. 

“I can help you, Herminoe. If you want we can get out of this rain.” He holds his hand out to her and she studies him. 

She slowly takes his extended hand. 

~/*\~

The station is cold, but Charles has covered her in a blanket that is much larger than she is. He helps to pick out the glass from her hand but lets her keep the chain once it is mended. He thinks that it is somehow important to her because it belonged to her parents and she does not correct him. They ask her questions that she can not fully answer, she does her best and they promise to help her find her parents. She is five and there has to be someone that is looking for a 5-year-old sweet little girl.

But it seems after time drags on that no one is. 

She thinks that is because her parents are dead, though she can not remember that for sure. 

Weeks pass and they watch over her, but they are not successful. She has been stolen. They know that much but they can not locate anyone with the last name Granger and so she has to be taken to the orphanage. She does not want to go. She wants to stay with Charles and his wife. They are kind to her, they seemed to have loved her. But they didn’t love her enough to want to keep her. They have run out of care for her because of the strange things she can not help.

She shoves, hits, and bites to try to get out of going to the orphanage. She has heard enough about such places to know that they are hell on earth and she does not want to go. She begs Charles not to take her, but his eyes, the blue to them are as icy as the arctic. 

~/*\~

The building is large and she is told quickly that if she causes problems that there will be swift consequences. She is forced to give up her nice clothes that she has been gifted by Charles and she has to give up her plush dog that she has been gripping tightly as not to be digging her fingernails into her scarred hand. It is burned slightly by the heat the pendent had had when she grabbed it and the glass shards have left thin marks. The second that she no longer has the dog, she starts to play with it, obsessively and impulsively as she can not help it. 

She is dressed like all the little girls and she is chucked into a room full of them. They look at her but don’t move to make friends. It is as if they can smell the weirdness on her, and they don’t want anything to do with her. 

~/*\~ 

No one has warned her about how she is expected to be up at a certain hour, that she has to make the bed, or that she has to do her hair up in a braid, braids or bun. And so she feels the sting of the ruler. It is her first real day and she makes trouble for herself. 

She eats food that does not taste and she misses her mom’s cooking, she misses her grandmother’s cooking, she misses it all and she just cries as she forces the rest down. If anyone cares that she is upset they don’t say anything to comfort her or to tell her to be quiet. 

She learns fast to do the chores that are expected of her, pain is a good motivator. Wool’s is an orphanage that functions much like a prison. It is clockwork and the place runs because there are children to do most of the work. 

~/*\~

She meets him when she is forced to sort laundry. He is about her size, his eyes are dark brown and they look at her with a look of contempt. He sits next to her and says nothing. But she can feel as if the air around him is charged almost like it was when she made things happen. 

He is like her. 

She knows it. 

And so she seeks him out when there is a break for the day, and they are able to go out. She finds him alone and sits by him despite the whispers for her to stay away. He glares at her as she sits next to him. 

“Hi.” She says softly. 

He says nothing even moves a bit away from her. 

“My name is Hermione.” She tries again. 

“Don’t care.” He finally gives a response. His eyes glitter with life, they are wild, and they are captivating. 

She hugs her legs. “I figured that you mustn't, but you were alone again.” 

“Did it occur to you that maybe I like it that way.” He snips at her.

“No one likes it, they just convince themselves they do.” She tells him and he gets up and leaves her there with a scowl on his face. 

~/*\~

He thinks she has to be stupid to ignore the warnings others must be giving her about him. Tom is not liked even at only 5 nearing 6 he knows this. He knows it from the way that the other boys shove into him, hit him, or try to kill the snakes he talks with. He knows it by the way that Mrs. Cloe likes to hit him harder with the ruler for things that he has or hasn’t done. The girl will learn things by being around him and be just the same as those before her. She will freak out or she will use him for a scapegoat when she needs one, as she will have some secrets she can tell. 

He is used to it. 

He just wished that Mrs. Cloe would stop believing that he means to cause problems. He doesn’t for the most part. It is not his fault that incidents as she calls them happen around him. He can’t help it things shatter when he is upset, he isn’t even touching them and they just do. He makes other things happen too like he made billy’s hair fall out, and the clothes that he was helping to sort all turned blue because he had been upset that the others had thrown water on him. 

He seeks to control these things and he has been able to move objects a little if he concentrates hard enough. If he can learn to control them, maybe then he can be left alone as he will have the means to make it happen or he can make himself seem normal enough to be adopted. Though no one wants kids his age… and they might have already been warned off by Mrs. Cloe as she hates Tom. She tells anyone that will listen to her that he is a problem child, a little devil, and has put him up on the 3rd floor in a room to himself to keep him from bothering the other children.

He rubs at his face with the back of his hand, trying to force down the very annoying itch by his eyes. 

He knows that he is special and once he has abilities down he will be able to prove that. 

~/*\~

He notices that others are staring to avoid the girl too. And he sees her get shoved down the stairs a lot, but this time he sees the blood that comes out of her head. He hears the sound of the crack of her head hitting the stair and notes that the other children run away.

He inches closer wondering if she is dead with the way that she seems motionless. He should be hiding too so that he doesn’t get blamed for this, but he probably will be by the end of the day no matter his efforts. He creeps to the banister. 

She is really bleeding… 

He should perhaps get her help if it is not too late. 

She then gasps and sits up. He sees the damage start to heal as if she has never been hurt. It takes a while but it does and she then wipes the blood away. She stands up, there is the sound of popping and she heads to the bathroom no doubt to wash away the blood. 

And he realizes that she must be like him.

Different. 

And he doesn’t know if her version of abilities are amazing or if they are horrifying.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Tom sees her she is with an older orphan. He doesn’t know him personally but the girl… Hermione is holding a bag and he knows what this means. Ever since he was 4 and had been moved to this floor, the second bed in his room has been empty. He had figured that it would always be that way. No one wanted to be with Tom and no child that could be corrupted would be placed with him. He uses the extra bed to hide things under the mattress he is going to have to find another hiding place now as Mrs. Cole will for sure check her bed. 

Still, he can not say that he is happy to have another person in his room. He is used to the emptiness and he prefers it to the times that he lived in a room with the other little boys, they had been loud, mean, and he had hardly gotten any sleep. 

“This way you can keep the freakiness to yourselves.” The older boy sets the blankets on the bed and leaves her there with a look of disgust as if he can not stand the idea of being near them. Tom wants to punch him because he hates those looks. But he is small, thin, and very aware that he is breakable. He can not do anything about it. Perhaps one day, but not today. 

Still, they shoved her off to him and he wonders just how scary she is to the others if she has done more than heal whatever injuries that she has been subjected to. She plays with a thin gold chain on her neck and places the pillow she has and other clothes down. She starts to put things away because she knows as well as Tom no matter the age, no matter the room. It should be spotless, well kept, like the children themselves. 

He doesn’t know why he is watching her, but she is just such a strange creature. She is gentle in all her movements, cautious, hesitant. She makes near no sound. In the few months that he has seen her, he has noticed that she attempts to blend into the background. Her attempts work, not well with her completion and her hair, she would stand out no matter where she was placed or wore. But yet she succeeds in being quiet that you can forget eventually that she is there. Much like a colorful chair, the eyes would adjust to the loudness and then forget that its there. Her soft steps make her very good at avoiding those that she wishes. She slips off often and more often than not she finds him. She is an elusive creature, perhaps a doe. She has the brown, tan skin of one and wild hair that belongs to the forests. Her eyes are glistening because she always is near tears when he sees her. She honestly is a creature to behold. He can feel the air around her, it is like there is a static to it. And her hair moves with it. 

Hermione looks at him, he has been staring too long. His face heats slightly as she tilts her head and squints her eyes as if she is sizing him up. 

He decides now is as good as any time to try and lay some ground rules. 

“Stay on your half of the room.” He tells her. “And don’t be loud.” He adds an as an afterthought. 

She nodded. “I don’t want to intrude, but they didn’t want me in the other room with the other girls.” 

He doesn’t ask her why. He just moves to his bed and lays down on it. He is tired and he doesn’t have much energy to do anything but try to sleep. He knows that tomorrow there will be bedding to help clean and church to be dragged to. They will need to be up really early. 

She sits down on the bed she is playing with her hand. Almost all the time that he sees her she is fiddling with it, rubbing it and grasping at it. The light over her head starts to flicker and her hair stands up slightly.

“Stop that.” He commands her because the bulb could shatter with the way that she is affecting it and he doesn’t want to clean up glass or get searched for anything that could have caused it to break. He has hidden in the room a small ball and a top and he doesn’t want Mrs. Cole to take them from him. 

“Sorry.” She bows her head instinctively. “It’s just I didn’t think that you would mind, you're like me.” 

“Like you?” He questions. He knows that they both have abilities but he has hidden his he thought well from her. 

“You have magic.” Her eyes dance in the dim lighting. “We’re special.” 

The word seems somehow to fit. Even if it sounds silly to call it something like that. Powers or abilities sounds better, more accurate but that word burns deep into him. 

“Is magic what you do?” He asks.

“I think.” She tilts her head. “I have met others that can do things. They tried to…” She cuts herself off. 

But he can’t let her off the hook. Not when she has started to explain to him something that he wants more than anything to understand and be able to control. He looks at her and she squirms a little under his gaze. 

“Tried to what?” He prompts her. 

She gets a far off funny look on her face. “They waved their hands.” She says softly. “And when they did people would be cut apart, they would die. I think they wanted to do that to me. Not that it might do them any good. If I really will it, I will come back together.” 

This new information is pretty scary and he allows himself to acknowledge that. Tom has never been scared of things that lived under his bed. He has life to thank for giving him real fears, like being locked for hours in the closet or hit really hard. Any sort of thing that could have eaten him would have shown itself when he was alone in this room. But people are another thing. Tom finds that he hates them and that they are scarier than anything his imagination can create. They are unpredictable, cruel, and he can do little to protect himself. 

To think that there are people that can cut others apart makes him terrified partly but also wonder if there is a way to learn this magical ability or if people are born with a select amount of skills that they can hone. 

“I saw you on the stairs.” He is now sitting up very much involved in this conversation. 

Her eyes widened a little. “You… did?”

He nodded. “I thought you were dead, but then you just got up again.”

“It’s possible.” She hunches. “I have died before, I think, I was on the pavement and must have fallen hundreds of feet. It hurt, nothing else has hurt as much as that did. But then I was able to get up again and run.” 

She has died before, it sounds impossible and yet he has seen her skull crack open a little and it disappear in a matter of minutes. 

“Can you do anything else?” His throat is a little dry.

“I can break things like you can, and move things if I command it hard enough.” She starts rubbing again at her hand and Tom looks up to see if the light will react thankfully it does not. 

She might be stronger than him. And the possibility is a little horrifying because he might heal a bit faster than a normal person if the bruises he gets are anything to go by, but he can't mend his bones in minutes and just get up again. If she can break and move things then she is on his level at that. 

“I can talk to snakes.” He tells her. “They whisper things to me.”

“I can’t do that.” She looks interested. “Are they intelligent?” 

“Not really.” He admits. And watches her seem a little disappointed which admittedly bothers him more than it should. Because his whole life he has thought his abilities make him special and maybe they do but talking to snakes and commanding them is very pale in comparison to being able to die and come back. 

“Well, they are just animals.” She shrugged. “One can't expect much from them, but if you could convince them to watch other people and tell you what they have seen then it could be useful.” 

It really is a good idea, well better than sicking them on people to bite them if they mistreat him. 

“I haven’t tried that.” He admits to her. “It could work.” 

She nods smiling. “Maybe I can teach you things and you can teach me things.” 

He likes the idea. He really likes it, because he has never had anyone to talk to about this before. It is exciting in a new way that he hasn’t felt before. 

“Okay.” He agrees. 

“If I am going to be living with you, you had best tell me your name.” She grins larger and he can see that she has front teeth that are a bit bigger than the rest of her teeth. Such a thing looks slightly ugly but it fits the rest of the wild uniqueness to her. 

“My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.” He says it for the first time in his life with something akin to pride, because she thinks they are special, and since they are he should not be whispering his name to her. He has only done that in the past because he knows the look of disgust and fear that he is going to get with that name. He has been slightly ashamed of it because his mother was destitute, her husband left her, and she died leaving him here. Riddle is a horrible last name, and Tom is as common as dirt. 

“Well, my full name is Hermione Jean Granger.” She says just as proudly. “It’s good to have you as an ally, Tom.” 

He likes that she doesn’t claim him as a friend as they don’t know each other well enough for that and she seems to understand that. 

“Likewise.” He would have said something else, but there is a noise in the hall. Tom knows that it is the Matron on duty and his eyes widen and he buries himself in the blankets motioning for Hermione to follow suit. Hermione is not as fast, but she does get what he is doing. 

The woman steps into the room and Tom holds his breath hoping that it looks like he is asleep. He scrunches his eyes closed and holds his breath. The remaining light goes out and the footsteps retreat. He lets the breath out slowly and unburies himself. So that he can change and set up his Sunday clothes. 

He knows that he is going to be tired in the morning, but it is worth it. He knows what he has now and that he is not completely alone. 

~/*\~

Things are peaceful for the next week up until the next Sunday really. It starts normal but ends badly. 

Tom goes to church like normal and pretends to listen to the sermon. Hermione does not look at all happy to be there. She is shaking a little with the words that are coming out of the pastor's mouth. He is talking about women and Tom can sort of understand. He wouldn’t like to be told that he has to obey anyone, no matter what. Wives though are supposed to have that purpose, be the mother of the home, take care of her children, and listen to her husband. It is a blessing that he is not a girl really. But being told to blindly follow is partially why he hates church. 

He pays attention just enough to hit the main points and use them should Mrs. Cole think she has to hit the devil out of him, he can say a quote or two. If she sees him pretend to pray before he eats sometimes she will leave him alone. No one has warned Hermione of this and she looks like she wants to kill everyone in the room and Tom likes the look of fire to her. It makes the air feel alive and he can feel her magic, if that is really what it was, push into his. 

She after church is hauled off somewhere, Tom is not sure where it is as this Sunday is their day off and he waits for her. He doesn’t see her until dinner and she has a handprint on her face. It's purple and blue. It contrasts her pretty face as it is puffy.

She surprises him though because she is not crying. She is not hiding the mark. She wears it like it is a badge of honor. 

“I will not pray to a god that doesn’t save or show mercy.” She tells him when they are getting ready for bed. “If his followers are that of Mrs. Cole then I rather I am a devil, no hell is worse than this.” 

“Why do you not heal it.” He asks her because it looks painful the way that she lays on her side in a different way than she usually does.

“Because it is in a noticeable place.” She tells him. “I healed the others but this one has to stay.” 

He knows she is right but he doesn’t like the way that she winces when she sees Mrs. Cole. Even if Hermione doesn’t believe in god, or anything else. There is a higher power at Wools and it is their wicked Head Matron that now has deemed Hermione another demon like him. 

~/*\~

Hermione grows fond of Tom, even if he can be rude to her and mean. He is trying she thinks to be better to her. He just has never had a friend and it is very obvious. He tells her to stop crying a lot. She does that. She can’t help it. She has really bad nightmares and she doesn’t get enough sleep. She is affecting Tom’s ability to sleep too, so it makes him extra irritable. 

But he does eat with her, he does sit close to her when they sort laundry and warns her if he hears anything that could be hazardous to her health that will be aimed her way from other orphans. They practice pushing stones, and she finds no matter how she tries she can not hear snakes the way Tom does. He seems to like this fact, and she lets him believe that makes him somehow superior to her. He needs the ego boosts. 

They only have each other in this place. The other children hate them and they try to blame them for things that they do not do. Somehow, someway, she knows that she has to get back at them in a way that will make them think twice about ever making things up about them. 

She doesn’t yet have a real plan for this, but she wants so desperately to get even and she can tell that Tom wants it too. 

~/*\~

She is crying again. 

She always cries at night.

He is so tired. 

He just wants her to stop. 

He needs to sleep and she is making him stay awake. 

He likes Hermione but he can't keep going like this. 

He stands up and smacks her hard with his pillow. 

“Stop crying.” He demands. She doesn’t and so he pushes at her shoulders and shoves the pillow over her face to muffle it. She quits crying but starts struggling and he releases the pressure because he doesn’t want to kill her he only wants to make her shut up. 

“Stop crying, you are always crying.” He hisses at her. “You bring the staff and they’ll hit you. Do you want to be hit?” He demands. 

She kicks at him. Gets him off of her. She is furious at him. Her eyes burn into his before she shoves him away and they start wrestling, falling onto the floor. 

“You don’t understand. She hits him and he claws at her, pulling her hair. He knows that is a cheat but it's all that he can grab with his position.

She pins him, and he hates her for it. She holds his wrists and he is forced to look into those glittering doe-like eyes. He feels something twist in him looking at her like this, and he forgets that he should be struggling. 

“I watch them die every night!” She cries harder, her tears slash against his face. “You never knew your parents. You don’t know what it's like to lose them. You never had a family.” 

That makes him kick her and it knocks the air out of her so that he can stand up as she gasps on the floor. 

“Yeah.” He hates how his voice croaks. “Who needs a family anyway when all they do is leave you or return you.” 

He rubs at his eyes and then just crawls under his bed because then she can’t look at him as he shows weakness. He has been returned before, twice. A cute two or three-year-old Tom was a cute little boy. However, he was prone to making things break and it probably is the start of the reason that Mrs. Cole hates him. 

He keeps his crying down as quiet as he can as he doesn’t like the feeling. He keeps telling himself that things like family are stupid and he doesn’t want one. He doesn’t need one, the risk at happiness is not worth the hurt, besides he is nearly 6 which is too old and no one wants him anymore anyway. No one ever has and no one ever will. 

She crawls under and pulls herself so that she is next to him and he turns his head away so that she can’t look at him. Her shoulder bumps into his. 

“I am sorry for what I said, it wasn’t fair of me to say, but it was not nice of you to try to smother me with a pillow. I couldn’t breathe.” She apologizes sort of. 

He risks looking at her and she leans into him more putting her head on top of his and intertwining their hands. He looks at it in disbelief. Her hands are so soft and so is her touch. Tom can not remember the last time that he has felt soft touch and he marvels at it. 

“You know we only have each other.” She sighs softly. “We're not going to be adopted with the way that people are warned away from us, but if you want we can be family, I will help and take care of you and you can help and take care of me.”

He sniffles at that, trying to make himself sound strong again. It could be a trick or a trap. Some how his heart that is beating in his tighten chest says otherwise, he knows that it can’t be. Hermione is not like that. “Really...?” He asks her. 

“Yes.” She says.

He leans into her and lets the warmth take him. There is that static in the air but it blankets over him. She feels it too because she sighs happily. 

Maybe their magic likes each other. 

“I am sorry for smothering you.” He admits, he isn’t completely, but he knows that it is probably best to meet her there. 

“I forgive you, I think I will always forgive you.” She tells him. “And since you are family I can do this to get back at you.” 

She runs her finger lightly up his side and he chokes back a laugh and glares at her. “I take it back and I am no longer sorry.” 

She grins at him and he finds that it has grown on him. He feels his face returning one. 

They stay that way for a while before she pulls away from him and heads back to her own bed. He misses the warmth of her near instantly. She is an angel. He decides because she is just too warm and soft for such a place. He looks at his hand that is now empty. She is strong, he knows that, but she is also soft. She is prone to crying and it no longer makes her weak in his eyes, but rather something that needs to be protected.

Especially if she considers him to be family. 

~/*\~

She wakes with the sun, she has not slept well these days. But she even with better sleep than she has had in months, is still tired as she is pledged with nightmares that give her more and more snippets of things that she has forgotten. None of it paints a good picture. She is remembering more of the brutality of her parent's demise. 

She glances at the clock and starts to panic. They need to be ready to go in 15 minutes in front of the stairs and in line. She rushes over to Tom’s side and starts to prod him. 

“Tom.” He stirs. 

“Tom.” She pushes him harder. 

He bats at her.

“Tom.” She shoves him nearly out of bed and he does in his panic land hard onto the wooden floor. 

“What was that for!” He snapped at her, his lip curling. 

“We need to be ready soon.” She panics slightly at the idea of not getting food and not looking her 'Sunday best', but she is glad that she has woken him. His eyes bug out at the clock and he rushes about the room with her getting dressed. 

She helps him with his tie and he helps her to put her hair up into a bun. They race down the hall toward the stairs and make sure that their next steps around the bend are a walk as to seem like they have been waiting for the appropriate time to show up. 

He grips her hand hard as she worriedly watches Cloe go in and out of rooms. 

“Our room is fine.” He says quietly and she nodded trying to calm her heart, but it's beating a bit faster for a different reason.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darker child abuse scene below, please don't read if it concerns you.

_Hermione is in her living room. She is watching TV sitting probably far too close to the television. Nothing is on or at least it's mostly, just loud and colorful animals being projected from the screen. Her mother is in the kitchen and her father is in the yard working. Hermione is hungry but she knows better than to bother her mother when she is cooking. She won’t get a snack and it will take even longer._

_There is the sound of something breaking and her mother is screaming. She hides behind the sofa. She can see two robed people making their way into the room. She can’t see their faces because they have on hoods. They look like vampires or some other type of monster she has seen on covers for VHS tapes at the local movie rental. She holds her breath, holding tightly her mouth closed by holding her small trembling hands over it. She can see the man is holding onto someone's arm. Her mother is trying to scream. She can tell by the way that her face scrunches up. Her eyes are making contact with hers. Her brown eyes lock eyes with her and she sinks to the floor._

_“She has to be here.” The voice is sharp and female._

_“I know that.” The male voice answers. “The brat must be hiding.”_

_“Maybe the screams of her mother will bring her out.” The woman raises her hand and Hermione does not see what happens but can hear her mother's frantic cries for her to run._  
_She crawls on the floor trying to hide the best she can as she makes a break for the back door. The woman though grabs her, turns her to face her. The woman's eyes are shining near black under the hood. Hermione punches and screams, but she just is pulled forward._

_“ Let’s finish up here.” The woman says she holds Hermione close to her body. “We got his prize.”_

_She sees the man wave his hand and her mother is cut to ribbons with an unknown word spoken._

She wakes up with tears already threatening to spill over. She blinks hard and takes in deep breaths. She looks over at Tom and he is already awake looking at her. He is a light sleeper, probably because of the few years he was housed with other boys. He had to be ready to defend himself and as such he is able to hear her shifting and it is enough to wake him. He moves over for her and lifts his arm up.

She gets up without hesitation and crosses the room to him. They have a system. Hermione likes it. If she has a nightmare, she can sleep with Tom. That way she does not cry so much it wakes the Matron and she can receive the comfort that she needs and does not to continue to keep Tom up.

“Was it the same dream?” He asks softly as she leans into him and he puts his arm down and the blanket covers the both of them. His head is just slightly over hers, she can feel his breath in her hair.

“It's a memory, I keep reliving.” She says just as softly back, she leans into him and Tom holds her hand close. He is only a hair taller than her, but for some reason even if they both are small she thinks she feels safer next to him. Their eyes meet this way and she can watch his face. His hand is warm and his heart is a constant powerful lullaby if she tightens her hold she can feel it too. He grips her a little tighter, he sighs softly and she thinks that perhaps he likes when she has nightmares because he likes to bury his head face into her hair if she lets him get close enough. It still is very relieving they are close, close as can be and she likes that.

“It will pass in time.” He finally breaks the silence that is filled with nothing but breathing.

“It is coming back to me, whether I want to remember it or not,” Hermione mumbles, her eyes flickering shut. “But yes I am sure eventually it won’t matter.”

He nods as he is falling back asleep as well. “You can still sleep with me though.”

She feels her face heat up, what they are doing is for sure forbidden and it makes it more of a dangerous game, almost thrilling. If they are caught they will for sure be punished. Worse maybe than the few hits here and there she is used to. The ruler is not as painful as it was when she first came. She has built a tolerance but it really would be painful if she can no longer be close to him.

But she does not say this. “If they don’t fix the heat then we’ll have no choice but to.”

He shifts pulling the blanket a bit further up. It will protect them should someone pass by.

“They have to, they can’t let anyone freeze. I am sure it would be Cole’s and the other's jobs.” Tom responds after thinking about it only a moment.

“Right they might actually be charged with child abuse then.” She shakes her head.

He laughs softly and she savors it because Tom doesn't laugh often. Neither does she if she is going, to be honest with herself.

~/*\~

Hermione sits on the floor playing with the top that Tom had found at the park on their last trip. The handle is broken off of it but she is able to make it spin without it and keep it spinning. It was a gift for her birthday because Tom had noticed that she was extra moody as he called it. She knows that it is him being nice even if he doesn’t want to admit it. They are soft around each other in private, but less so in public settings. They want to seem like reluctant friends, as that probably gives them the ability to stay in the same room as each other. If they seem happy Mrs. Cole or the fat assistant Matron would find a way to ruin it.

She is almost addicted to sleeping next to him as it has been getting colder and her nightmares stay away from her when she sleeps with him. It's just impossible to be scared when there is someone there to instantly wake you should there be a need.

He tells her that it is in the past, the person that cuts her parents up to bloody ribbons can not get them and she has started to accept that. Her dreams show her things that are different from this place. She does not know if she is crazy because she knows that movies don’t come in color here but she remembers them.

The only things that make her dreams feel real to her, and makes her know that they are memories, are the chain she wears on her neck and the scar that is on her hand. It heats sometimes when she needs to heal herself and she can see things that look like golden specks bubble to the surface of her skin.

She runs her hand over the top as she stops it. She would paint over the damaged areas when they are allowed to go to school next year. There were bound to be some different colors to use in an art room. Tom thought that they should just peel all the color off of it and forget about making it fancy. But Hermione was fond of the splotches of red. It is like the hints of crimson color she swears she sees in Tom’s eyes when he gets upset enough.

She has seen him angry enough in the last few weeks. She can’t blame him, Billy is becoming a problem. His rabbit, Coco, is constantly getting lost in the facility, but because Billy is an ideal child Mrs. Cole does nothing about it. She loves that boy, Hermione would claim that in a way Cole has adopted the brat. It wouldn’t be a problem if not for the fact that Coco likes Tom. She escapes and finds him no matter where he is in the place. Tom has a way with animals. They seem to be drawn to him, maybe they can feel his magic or maybe they sense that under everything, like deep down, that he can be soft. Certainly not with people, she is the only exception, but animals he talks to and is kind to snakes. They have one garden snake that helps keep an eye out when they are messing with magic outside.

Still, Billy constantly is accusing Tom of trying to steal the only thing that he has left from his old life. Tom obviously denies this because it is not his fault that Coco likes him better, and if it was not for Tom feeding her or giving her water the thing probably would have been dead by now.

Herminoe almost wished that it would die. It would save Tom from the beatings by Billy and his friends Certainly there were enough things that the Rabbit could get into at the facility all it would take was faulty wiring or some of the poison that is left out for the mice. It is dumb luck the thing hasn’t died by now.

~/*\~

It's another cold winter day and everyone is stuck inside. Hermione hides in their room these days rather than trying to go to the common area with the other orphans. Usually, this allows her to work on her magic. The quiet also helps her concentrate. She is floating the top over her palm. She can not wait to show Tom that she has it down.

She hears a loud shout and the top drops. There is arguing in the hall, she can hear voices getting progressively louder. Tom’s loud voice rising over the shrill one of someone else.  
Billy is holding Coco that is squirming in his arms. “You stay away from her.” He says darkly.

“You should learn to take care of your pets. I would be happy if you kept that bloody thing away from me.” Tom hisses. “I don’t want it near me.”

Which is probably only partially true. Tom likes petting Coco but he doesn’t like the negative things that happen because of it. It isn’t a worthy trade-off.

There are others coming out of their rooms and Hermione smartly, takes Tom by the arm and drags him away, before he can say anything else that could be translated to a threat. She can feel his magic in the air, it's thick, harsh, and she knows that he is going to lose control. Something is going to shatter and they will all blame Tom even if they don’t know how it has happened.

“You can’t say things like that.” She whispers to him when they are safely in their room and the door has been shut.

“He won’t stop coming after me.” Tom pulls his arm from her. “It’s not my fault that I attract animals.”

“Yes, your power is right out of a storybook.” She agrees with him.

“Don’t mock me.” Tom glares at her. “You think it's a girly magical ability don’t you.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I find your ability to have the mice do what you want them to fascinating.”

He smiles a little, there is a twitch by his mouth at that. “If only there was a way to control bigger animals, dumb ones like Billy.”

She sighs. “I wish there was a way.”

“If I practice, it might be possible.” He tilts his head, the idea is appealing. There however is a large difference between influencing people and influencing something like a mouse.

~/*\~

Hermione has been practicing with him magic, though her magic is not directed towards animals like his is. She is focusing on more moving objects. She shows him her ability to spin the top in the air. She no longer needs the floor to keep it spinning. She makes it float and makes it do large beautiful arches. She can even move it so that he has to catch it with his magic over his palm.  
It has become a fun game for them, and a pastime.

Her magic Tom finds to be warm, like a good hug or a blanket. His is not that way. He knows that it's colder and he would not exactly call it dark, but his doesn’t hum with lifelike hers does. His is like a storm waiting to happen, the shift in the air is noticeable. It is like there is a heavy suffocating pressure around it. Hers is like a bird chirping softly, or the blooming of a plant. It is hardly noticeable. It is freeing and only appreciated if one is looking for it. Perhaps it is because she feels joy to do these things while he feels power and a way to control his circumstances. Yet when he is close to her, their magic mixes. She can sometimes feel it too, but not like Tom can. He can almost see it in good lighting. Gold soft trails mixing with darkened blue.

They do everything together, and they are never apart. Tom doesn't want it to be anyway else. Hermione is his family that he has to protect. The idea of school makes him excited because any less time that he has to be around Billy and the others at the facility makes him warm inside. But it also brings the idea of being away from Hermione and he doesn’t like the idea that they could be apart for most of the day.

He is willing to share with her, which is something that he has never wanted to do before. But he is not willing to share her. He wants her to be his and his alone. He doesn’t want to give her a chance to make friends with others that might be able to replace him. Here he doesn’t have to worry but out there? He is not so sure.

He knows how he is, he knows how he can be. But he can not help it. It is how he is.

He nearly slips on a bit of water that is in the Laundry room floor.

“Fricking clutz.” The older girl shakes her head at him. 

Hermione is folding clothes and he is to put them into the small baskets that are sorted by room number. She looks at him to make sure that he is alright. He is glad that he knows his numbers. He glares at the girl and she grips her hand as if the iron has burned her, but it hasn’t. Hermione's eyes have widened and she shares a small look with him and a small smile forms on her face. He needs to know how he has done that so that he can use it to protect them in the future.

~/*\~

Tom hates the holidays because people think good gifts to orphans are thin gloves or hats. Maybe some cotton socks if they are feeling really generous. He is fine with the attempted gifts for others to feel better about themselves. Whatever lies they tell themselves about making their lives better can carry them to the next year.

He just doesn’t like going to church on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Double the services hearing about a baby that has been born to save him from things that he has done makes little sense to him. He has like Hermione has never been saved. He also does not know much about love but the closest that he can get to understanding it is the care that Herminoe gives him. He could never understand sending something that is supposed to be so precious in comparison to others to die for people that are not going to be grateful for it.

How can you send someone you love to die?

He doesn't even know how someone could let someone they love suffer like that. He would rather himself die, then go on without the soft touches and the way that Hermione holds onto him. He would never die for strangers, what had they ever done for him?

There is nothing good in life but Hermione, magic is a close second. But that is not going to tell him he is worth things and it's not going to bandage him when he is hurt. His magic is not going to sit with him and eat or do chores with him. It is not going to hug him close and calm him down before he gets himself into things deeper.

He doesn’t look forward to the rest of the month. He hates his birthday, it is something that has ever been celebrated. Other orphans get a small something for it, but not him. The day goes unnoticed.

Hermione surprises him on his birthday though. She has stolen something and knowing her that is something that is impressive because she doesn’t believe in that sort of thing. She pulls him to the corner of the yard and they hide behind the bushes by the fence. She hands him a cookie. He has never tasted anything so good.

It’s stupid but he has never had a cookie, he has seen other people with them, but he has never had a treat that is all his own. She has to have taken it when they were on the way back from the park and passed the bakery. He doesn’t ask how she has accomplished this. He just lets himself enjoy every bite of chocolate.

She smiles as she watches him eat it as if it brings her joy just to see him happy. Which puzzles him greatly. He wants to understand how she can feel these things because he can’t, not really. He wants Hermione to be happy, it is better than her crying, and when she is happy she gives him comfort or hugs. So it’s in his benefit to have her in a good mood, but he doesn’t feel like she does. He wants to… because finding simple joys in life would be key to enjoying it.

It really is a perfect gift because he has eaten the evidence and he has done so neatly so there is nothing that Mrs. Cole can do about it. When he is done he wants another one and wishes that she had stolen 2. But then as soon as he thinks it he realizes how selfish that is.

“You have something here.” She taps her face and he is about to reach up and fix it but he feels something warm and slightly wet. It takes him a moment to realize what she has done but by that time she had pulled away. She had kissed his cheek and she ran off before he could bring himself to respond.

It is as if her magic has seeped inside of him. He doesn’t know how to feel about this, but the warmth is spreading more than ever through him and to his cheeks.

She doesn’t say anything about the kiss she gave him later so he does not ask her why she did it. He assumes it's because she likes him and he can sort of think of her in that light. She is pretty after all with her doe-like eyes, and she is kind to him in ways that no one else is. 

~/*\~

Winter bleeds into spring, and Tom feels like he is getting closer even still with Hermione. She crawls into his bed more often and he finds the nights that she doesn’t there is a missing warmth. He is tempted to climb into hers, but that is right by the door and he would be noticeable there. And they are doing something that he is sure will get her taken from him if they find out. And he wants to keep her close, very close. She is more than family to him, thinking of her like a sister is too weird because sisters don’t kiss brothers on the cheek at least from what he has witnessed. He tries to keep anyone that might be a problem away from her. He wants to tell them that Hermione is his, and he will hurt them if they mess with her. But if he said she is his, she will be upset as she doesn’t think that people can belong to other people. She is really against things that normal girls would do. So he settles with glares. He is getting good at making people burn under his gaze. They experience little bursts of pain and he doesn’t have to even touch them.

The spring bleeds to summer and they go to school. They are luckily in the same class. They can study and work together. He has always known that he is smart, that Hermione is too. School just proves that. The teachers like them, but they also ignore the bruises that they have on their arms or legs. Most of them are hidden, perhaps they could tell someone, but Tom is used to being disappointed when it comes to adults. They may or may not make things worse, besides they are orphans and at the end of the day they have to go home to the facility. 

Tom and Hermione keep to themselves, they are leagues ahead and there is a library that is full of books to learn from. It is much better than trying to fight over a swing or a ball on breaks. The school year ends and summer comes, it brings back the misery of being stuck in the facility for long hours, with little break from the heat. There are also not books to read. Tom can only be happy that in the past few months he thinks that he has grown a little and it helps him to be on a more even playing field with Billy when he picks fights, as Tom doesn't have to rely only on his magic.

~/*\~

Hermione is trying to make sure that the room is ready for inspections. She doesn’t know what Tom is doing but he should be with her. She will have choice words for him if he skipped out on her purposely. But as if fate wanted to give her a harsh present it brings her Tom.

Mrs. Cole is yanking Tom by his arm into their room. He is struggling holding onto his thin arm that is already starting to bruise under her talons. He is putting his feet up to stop her dragging but it is with very little success. She is just too strong.

“Please.” He begs her. “I didn’t do it.”

“Don’t lie to me, brat.” She throws him by his bed, and he crashes into the metal frame of its head first. He doesn't get up right away because he is covering his face. Hermione halts mid broom stroke, she can see the blood that is coming down from behind his thin fingers. He is not crying but he is close to it.

“I didn’t…” He starts again but is smacked on the head hard.

“I want the truth.”

It's like she is trying to hit a confession out of him, and she might be successful. Tom is on the verge of tears but he will not give in, at least for a while. Hermione knows it.  
Cole spins on Hermione as if she can feel her heated gaze. Because Hermione wishes she could do something. She wishes that she could hurt her. She wants to. Her magic is building up, trying to be let out. And she doesn’t want it to react, because if it does it could get worse.

“Did you see anything!” She takes a step too close and Hermione takes one back, letting the broom fall from her hands.

“See what?” She has no idea what is going on, she has been doing her best to make sure their room is what can pass with maybe one good ruler hit. It will never be one hundred percent acceptable to such a monster.

“See what, you must be blind girl, the rabbit hanging from the banister by the stairs.” She hisses.

Hermione’s eyes flicker to Tom before they meet the blazing green of the Matron. “I have been cleaning here.” She says firmly.

The woman looks at her harshly and looks like she is going to touch Tom again.

“He didn’t do it. He has been helping me clean. He went for the dustpan.” She lies with an ease that she didn’t think was physically possible. She stands up straight even when she feels the hit across her face. It hurts. She is small and it might have made her nearly fall over but she rises again.

This provokes Tom to make another effort to explain himself. “I didn’t hurt Coco.” He isn’t holding his nose any longer and Hermione is glad that it doesn’t seem to be broken. His pretty face though is stained with bright color.

“He wouldn’t.” Herminoe again defends him. “Billy lets it run the place anyone could have done it in retaliation for the droppings that it leaves or for eating holes in their bedding.”

She tries to be reasonable but she has forgotten some adults don’t want a child to be reasonable or share their opinions. They want them to tell them that they are right and show respect for their authority even if they offer none their way.

“You’re just as much of a liar as he is.” She is grabbed hard and Tom is yanked up too. “I know how to fix you though.”

Tom's magic goes ballistic, making the lights above them flicker until the hall lights shatter. He lets out a painful yelp as the grip on his arm tightens. The pained cry makes Hermione’s react and the mirror nearest to them shatters and the woman’s hand must have started to burn as Tom wriggles free.

He shoves at the woman hard with his magic and she stumbles. In retaliation, Cole grabs his hair and pulls it hard making sure to lead him with twisting some of it tighter into her hand like a leash.

Hermione knows where they are going before they get there. It's the closest large one that has a wall built down the center of it. So that it is even smaller. She has sat in there before, for a few hours. She doesn’t want to go. No matter how she plants her feet she is forced stumbling forward. Her arm is wretched for her efforts to a funny angle.

Tom is thrown in first and then Hermione after him on the other side of the wall.

“A few days in here should loosen your tongues.” Cole kicks Tom who might have been trying to get up. “I will then come for you and you had better be ready for a confession and have begged the Lord for forgiveness.”

She slams the door shut and Hermione pushes against it even though she knows that it’s locked. It's dark, there is not a shred of light and the box feels tight around her.

“We didn’t do it!” She roars with a furry that shakes the door but is not strong enough magic wise to knock it off the hinges.

She hits it a few times, till her knuckles hurt and she slumps down against the wall that is behind her. Tom is trying to breathe; she can hear little gasps as he is getting it back under control. It hurts a lot more than it usually does because she can’t help him. She feels useless.

She cries softly because it's just not fair.

It's not fair at all.

~/*\~

She is crying, he can hear her.

He hates that sound, and it's worse than most times that she cries because they can not invoke their system. He can not hold her to make her stop. The noise tangles up his insides. He doesn’t like it at all. She shouldn’t have said anything. She didn’t have to get herself hauled off to the closet. But he would be a liar if it did not make him like her more for trying to defend him. It proves even more that they are close, that they are in it together. His head hurts, but not as much as his arm. He thinks that Mrs. Cole might have actually pulled some of his muscles. He can hardly move his left. It stings to make a fist or move his wrist.

“Hermione.” He tries to sit better without kicking the bucket that is near him. “It’s just the dark.”

“It's not the dark that is bothering me.” She responds and he puts his ear to the thin wall between them so he can hear her better. “I can’t heal you.”

She has tried before, it did little more than be soothing. He rubs at the blood with his sleeve. His nose hasn’t stopped but it is not as bad as it was. If it was not for the pain in his ribs that makes him take in small breasts he wouldn’t really notice the way the air is passing through it.

“It’s fine.” He tells her, it probably isn’t but that is not the point. The point is to try to get her to calm down.

“It’s not.” She argues with him. “You were bleeding, she could have broken your nose. Has it stopped bleeding?”

“Yes.” He lies.

She sniffles and he closes his eyes briefly relieved that she is slowing down.

“How can she do this?” She sounds angrier than he has heard her, and he can’t feel her magic but he wants to. “She is a monster.”  
“She is worse than any monster.” Tom agrees with her.

“I need to get stronger.” She says in that determined voice. “She can not be allowed to hurt us.”

This is why he likes her so much if she puts her mind to it, he knows that she will find a way to put a stop to it and if they work together he is sure that they can make Mrs. Cole go away permanently.

“No, she can not continue this.” He pauses. “I have to make more progress on using animals. I can make them do more and more complex tricks, with some damage.”

He has killed a few by accident, and made a few perhaps brain dead.

“Yes but they foam at the mouth or bleed from the nose,” Hermione says quietly back. “Even if they can not prove it they will assume that we killed her and if she lives through it...”

He had not been thinking about killing Mrs. Cole, but the idea is in his head now. He sort of likes the idea of it. He might dream happy dreams of her foaming at the mouth, choking like that Rabbit must-have. He can't help but smile.

“If I get better perhaps I can just influence her to leave.” He suggests instead of revealing his darker thoughts to her. “I don’t have to kill her.”

He leaves unless you want me to unsaid.

Hermione doesn’t say anything for a while. “I don’t want you to be a killer. I know that Billy is one that did it though, she wouldn't have believed me if I said it. He killed that Rabbit just because he wanted to make sure you were blamed for it.”

Tom shuts his eyes, gripping his bad arm, coming down from the high feeling of possibly hurting Mrs. Cole. He knows what she is saying is true. He just never thought someone as cowardly as Billy could kill something that he supposedly loved just to not have to share it with Tom. Tom didn't even want the thing...

“He won’t admit that though.” Tom points out.

“Not now, but if I get out of the closet he might.” She says it like it's a promise.

It makes the hair on his neck stand up a bit, not of fear. He can not help but feel invigorated with the idea of it. They will have to make swift, horrible, and not traceable back to them.

“Maybe wait a bit for whatever vengeance we plan.” Tom wants to heal from this first just in case something does go wrong.

“I'm not an idiot.” She huffs.

He snorts.

“I’m not.” She insists.

“It was pretty stupid to try and talk to Mrs. Cole like you did.” He points out. “You didn’t have to say anything.”

“Now who’s an idiot?” She sighs. “ Of course I did. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.”

“But you could have, and you would be safe.” He presses, no one has ever done something to help him like she has. She put the blame onto herself too, distracted Cole enough to think the closet was a better punishment than beating him unconscious for a confession.

“Tom, if you are in trouble I will not sit by and watch it happen. I said I would take care of you, I meant it.” She has a bit of an odd pitch to what she is saying. And it brings warmth to him.

“We’re in it together right?” He laughs softly, to hide just how much that means to him.

“Always.” She responds without missing a beat.

~/*\~

Time passes. It is getting uncomfortable no matter how he sits, or stands. The dried blood on his face makes it itch. And he wipes at it and can feel some of it crumble off, though he can see where it lands in the dark. His mouth tastes metallicy.

The closet is too warm, far too warm.

He starts to get hungry because he has only eaten breakfast. His stomach growls at him and he tires his best to ignore it, but it is angry, loud, and impossible not to think about. He tries to lay in a ball, and it works sort of, to help with the way that his stomach hurts.

~/*\~

She tries to sleep because there is no stimulation in this box that she is in. If she sleeps then the time will go faster, and her throat that is dry will not bother her as much. It's dry though and no matter how much spit she swallows. It's so bad that she has noticed the way that she can feel her tounge sticking to the roof of her mouth. 

“Tom.” She croaks after what must be hours later.

“Yeah.” He responds.

“How long do you think that we have been in here?” She leans against the wall that is closer to him.

“I don’t know, long enough for me to know what the bucket is for,” Tom responds tiredly.

She knows what it's for too, she has been ignoring the idea of it.

“Do you think it will really be days?” She asks, scared to ask. She wants to think that she is wrong.

“Probably.” He answers. “You should save your voice, Hermione.”

He is right, she knows, so she goes quiet for a while.

~/*\~

The hunger is barrable to the feeling of having to use the bathroom. He has held out for as long as he could. There is such a thin wall between them, he knows that she will hear him. He rubs at his face. He has been holding it so long that the edge went away for a while, gave way to cramps, and came back again.

“I have to use the bathroom,” Tom tells her.

“That's okay,” she tells him.

“This… This is going to be humiliating.” He is horrified at the idea of it.

“It will be okay.” She repeats because she is going to have to soon as well, and she must know that.

“Can you please…. Just…” He trails off. He can’t bring himself to say it.

“I’ll cover my ears.” She lets out a deep breath that he can hear.

It smells and the heat makes it worse. Tom tries to ignore it as well as the shame he feels from doing what his body told him to. He wonders if that is why this punishment is so horrible, because yes there is the hunger, the thirst, the pain from being cramped inside there, and if he was scared of the dark that would add to the negative. But it is like this has robbed him of basic decency. He doesn’t have much pride, he has been working on that. Hermione makes him not feel like his name is a slur when she uses it. But this has brought him lower than he has felt in a long time. The only thing that could have been worse was if there wasn’t a bucket.

~/*\~

The thirst is horrible.

The hunger is getting to her.

The cramped space is horrible.

She thinks she is going to die.

She lays the best she can. The floor is cooler on her cheeks. She hasn’t heard movement from the other side for a while. She has taken to feeling against everything in the dark, for anything she could miss. Her eyes don't adjust to this type of dark. She feels along the wall and finds that there is a small space under it, like they had not sealed it to the floor, but the back wall. She can slip her hand under it maybe.

“Tom, is there a gap on your side too.”

He doesn’t respond right away. “Yes, slightly.”

She slips it under and he bumps into the bucket, she can hear it move a little. He grips her hand and she sighs. It is a relief even if she can feel the wall rub a little at her wrist. It feels warm and safe.

Her eyes water slightly.

“Tom, do you think we'll die here?” She asks.

She doesn’t know how long they have been there, but she feels like it's been forever.

“No.” He says softly. “Too much of a hassle to her to get rid of the bodies and not when there is bruises for evidence. ”

She sighs. “If we get to leave the closet what would you like to do?”

“Drink a glass of orange juice.”

“I meant like later on in life after that.” She clarifies.

~/*\~

He has thought about that for a long time. He has wanted for as long as he has been here to get away, far away. He wants nothing to do with London, it's smelly and full of people. He really hates people. He wanted to be alone somewhere peaceful, with lots of land, animals, and a house that he can fill with things that he likes, and the thing that he likes more than anything is Hermione. Ideally, they would always be together. 

“Move somewhere with lots of open spaces with you.” He finally says.

She doesn’t respond for a little bit. “I would like that. I want to be a nurse.”

“I can help you heal people.” He tells her, a good job is how to provide for someone that you care for. He needs a career if he wants to own anything nice. He hadn’t thought too hard about what he wanted to do, but doctors did make a lot. “I can study to be a doctor.”

She laughs softly. “I want to get married in the future, have a large family.”

His chest tightens a little. “Yeah…”

“Tom, don’t sound like that.” She sniffs. “You and I will be the start of that family.”

He doesn’t know what she means by this, but then he thinks back to that kiss, the way that it felt and he thinks hard about what that sort of affection means. It means love, and the older people that are in love get married and have families. If they were together, she would be more than his girl, more than just really good friends, or sibling-like.

He thinks what it would be like to have a wife that listens to him, waits for him to come home, that wants to have kids with him, and spend forever with him. It is a feeling that makes him burn inside with desire for it. He has never wanted something like that. But this is Hermione; she makes him always think of things in new lights. His soft, caring Hermione. He can think of no one else that he would want to spend all his life with. And if she wants to marry him then she can never belong to other people. She will belong to him. And him he supposes to her. But he has never liked another human being so he would be okay with that not much of a sacrifice to him.

“Do you like me, like that?” He asks because not knowing him might just kill him, not the closet space. It has been a very long time that he has let her hang there.

“I love you.” She grips his hand a little tighter, his palms are sweating. She says it innocently and he can not help but believe her. Why else would she do the things that she does if it is not for love.

“I love you.” He repeats it, he doesn't know if that is the truth but he is sure that he is as close as he can be to loving her. If he tells himself he can feel love enough, then he will believe it. Just like he has told himself that he is worth something, and now believes it. He knows it to be true down to his very core. To make her happy he will try to love her because she will love him then in return. 

~/*\~

He falls asleep when he wakes the feeling of being sick has returned to him. He can feel every movement of his mouth as it craves water. Her hand is still there if he reaches for it, but it is loose and it scares him a little.

“Hermione.”

“Yes…What?” She replies and he feels better to have heard her voice.

“I just had to hear you.” He admits.

She is quiet for a long time.

“If we never get out, I think I want to marry you before I die.” She tells him.

It doesn't feel real. It is like they are going to have a fake wedding right here and now, just so that if it cant happen later and they cant live happily they have something to hold onto. Still pretend or not it's real at the moment because they are both young and want to live happily.

“Is this you asking me to ask you to marry you?” He wishes he could see her face but even with his head pressed to the floor and with his eyes squinting tightly all he sees is darkness.

“When you love someone and they love you that is what you do.” She hesitates. “But, I am asking you to marry me.”

She is again showing that she is not like other girls that he has met and seen around Wools. It's not supposed to go that way, men ask the women to marry them, and again she just proves how different she is. He feels for her hand again. He is 7 years old and he feels like he is going on 20. He wants to hold her tightly but he can't do that. He is not versed with how marriages go, he has no idea how to be in a relationship, but if it means that they are closer, spend more time connected, if it means that he gets to hold onto her. He wants that future wise or now.

“Yes, I’ll marry you if you marry me.” He breaths and she hears him. Their magic is in the air, more vibrant than he has seen it before, it twists above him and around the tight space. It is like little stars. She can see it too maybe because she lets out a gasp.

“If we're getting married, we need to say vows, or promises to one another.” Hermione being the girl does know more about these things than he does and adds to the game of pretend and fantasy about a future that they may never be able to have if they both die in the closet. 

“And wear rings right?” He asks it's all he really can think to add. 

“I don’t need a ring, only your word.” She is smiling he can tell it’s in her voice.

“I’ll get you one, not now, but someday.” He promises.

She huffs out a breath. “You say such cute things.”

He is not cute, boys shouldn’t be called that.

“Let's see, my vows are that I will always be by your side, I promise that you can trust me with your secrets and I will keep them for you, and I will love you.” Her voice rises with her promises, and golden magic sings with the power of her words.

He smiles larger than he thought was possible. “I promise to protect you.” it is all that he has ever wanted to do. “I will take care of you, be reliable, I won’t lie to you, and I’ll love you.”  
The blue light that nearly blends to the dark meets the gold stronger than ever. She sniffs and he feels like he might have made her cry.

“Hermione…”

“I’m happy.” She says.

Maybe she can see the light too, feel it.

“Now what do we do?” He tries to make her stop by going forward with this.

“People usually kiss to seal their vows.”

They could not do that… He wants to, he liked the kiss she had given him last year for his birthday.

“I am going to kiss my finger and you should kiss yours so when they touch it's like we're kissing.” She announces her solution.

“Okay.” He agrees, “But only if it's real after we get out.”

~/*\~

She holds her breath and kisses her finger lightly and she feels the slight moisture when she touches his finger to hers. She lets it out. She holds onto his hand from that moment on, no matter how uncomfortable it is. She doesn’t know if she will die in this closet but if she does, at least she will die holding onto her Tom.

~/*\~

She wakes when there is a banging on the closet before light burns her eyes as the door is opened.

“I hope you two learned your lessons.” The other Maton the fat one must have taken pity on them and come to free them. Hermione lets go of Tom’s hand and stands on shaking legs, her limbs are asleep. Tom looks horrible in the light with the dried blood on his face. If the woman feels bad for him she does a good job of hiding it.

She throws a towel at them and tells them to go shower. Hermione bends to pick it up. And They make their way to the community bathroom.

Tom takes her hand into his, tightens the hold as she stumbles a little.

“My feet are asleep.” She sighs, she doesn’t even want to get clean, she wants food, water, and to sleep for eternity.

“Mine aren't but everything hurts.” Tom shakes his head.

He holds the bathroom door open for her. “You first Mrs. Riddle.”

“Thank you, Mr. Granger.” She laughs at the way his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“That isn’t how that works.” He tries to correct her.

“Well, I like my last name, one of us has to keep it.” She tilts her head as he shuts the door behind him.

They each wash their hands and then she motions for him to sit so she can help him with all the blood. He rolls his eyes and folds his arms sitting on the closed toilet seat so she can rub the blood off his face with the hand towel. She is careful to mind the bruising on his face.

They take a spit bath, just a quick clean up. Hermione bends her head to drink water from the sink and then even though he laughs at her for it, Tom follows suit. Getting anything to drink is all that matters. The main lights to the halls are out, which means that it is lights out for anyone under 15 and that is them. The dark of the halls is nothing compared to the dark that they have been subjected to. Food would have to wait until the morning, or if she wakes up hungrier later she will slip off to the kitchens.

She changes into her nightgown. And doesn’t even bother to head to her bed. She wants to be closer to him, just for the night. They are out of that space and they can be together without interference. And she wants to feel safe, even if it is all but an illusion. 

“Here.” She hands him one of her colorful hair ties that she has been hiding in a sock they are from her mother. They are one of the few things that can tame her hair, and they make nice bracelets. She gives Tom the black one.

“What is this?” He holds it to the light to inspect it.

“We don’t have rings yet.” She explains. “We can wear them like bracelets, mine will not leave my wrist as long as you want to stay married.”

She doesn't know if he really wants to be forever, it was just something to promise and get her through the time in the dark. It was just in case, not that it makes the words that were said untrue. She really does think she loves Tom and the way that he makes her feel needed and wanted. 

He blinks a couple of times and then puts it on. It is hardly noticeable and that is the point, no one will say anything about it. It cements that perhaps their promises have more weight.

“Married couples go on things called Honeymoons,” Tom tells her. “We can not do anything like that, and I don’t know what they do on them other than kiss.”

She had promised him one, a real one. 

“Then we sleep together right and kiss.” She agrees. “If that is okay with you.”

“Yes…” His face heats. “That's good with me.”

She kisses him softly on the cheek and he does the same to her and then they curl up to sleep. There will be more time to process things in the morning, more time to think about what everything means. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been having issues with formatting for this chapter and Ao3's spaghetti code, deleting my edits, and posting the rough draft. 
> 
> edited and submitted the correct draft May 3rd (3:00 am)


	4. Chapter 4

The sun streams in through windows that are too high to have proper curtains to cover all the glass. The sun is bright and it brings light to the small cramped 3rd-floor room. The rafters spiderwebs shimmer in the morning sunbeams. The air vents sent poofs of dust that can not be reached drifting like small specks of snow. She is buried into Tom’s side. He is warm, almost too warm with the summer heat that has risen up into their room. Hermine holds his arm close to her as if it were a teddy bear and his head is on hers. His black hair is slightly itchy against her forehead. He breathes deeply and she feels it against her nose. 

She is tempted to go right back to sleep, she feels safe here. She knows that this place has no such thing, but being next to him is the closest thing that she can feel to a sanctuary. She traces her hand over his arm. He is very thin, it has never bothered her that much before, but she thinks that he should have more mass to him. His arms should be thicker. She can feel every sharp edge and she can see the many discolorations they are painted on a mostly pale white canvas. 

He has darkness under his eyes and a hollowness. It is like he is a corpse and death has always scared her. She watches him breathe, the way that his small chest goes up and down. He is not durable like her. She knows she is thin too. She though has suffered many injuries and she heals with golden pure light that slightly burns. She looks at his face again, how peaceful he looks. 

He stirs as she shifts a little back, her neck is a little sore. His brown eyes meet hers, and he rolls over so that he can hug her, rubbing his cheek into her hair. He is tired and wanting comfort from her, though he will never admit it. He probably wants confirmation that she still wants to be close to him. She hugs back slightly. 

She sighs. “We need to get up.” 

She knows that is what has to happen if they want food and she feels sick with a need to eat. Even if she might have pain after she eats it, as her body gets used to the idea of food again. He doesn't let go and she pets his head a little. 

He meets that sigh, “I want to sleep longer.” His eyes are starting to drift shut again. 

“Tom.” She said, “Come on.” She shook him a little with her effort to get out from under him and he lets out a loud, huff. Letting her go so that he can sit up. His hair is up in funny angles and she can already see him trying to fix it by running a hand through his hair, it makes it worse.

She reaches up and combs it with her fingers to fix it for him. “Your hair is getting long,” she says absentmindedly. 

He leans a little into her touch, like a cat. 

She misses her cat. 

“I want to cut it, but I know that if I do it will come out all wrong.” He shakes his head standing so that he can get dressed. He is still stiff; she can see it the way that he winces moving his bad arm. There are purple finger-sized welts around his wrist. They look like grapes. He catches her look. “I am fine.” 

She knows that he is not but Tom doesn’t like to show weakness, she knows how he feels about crying or asking for help even from her. 

“It will heal.” She replies compromisingly.

He nodded a scowl fixed to his face. “They always do.” 

"I could try to heal it." She offers.

He blinks a few times before moving back to her giving her his arm to try. She takes a deep breath and steadies herself, pulling the magic from deep inside her. She can see the gold in her veins moving under the surface. She feels the slight burning in her scared hand and she presses it to the bruises. They turn lighter, from purple-blue to a green-yellow. They do not go away completely. No matter how she tries to will it, the second that she lets go they revert themselves back. 

"I tried..." She says quietly. She doesn't know why she can't make it work on him. 

"I know." His eyes are soft. 

She gets up to get dressed. She spends far too long with her hair, but it is fluffy and it never listens to her. She can hardly force it into a bun. 

“We need to be careful.” He looks down the hall. “Mrs. Cole might not have told Mary to let us out and if she sees we're out she is going to think we skipped out on our punishment.”

She can’t go back into the closet, she shakes a little and he grabs her hand, it roots her back to reality. 

“We go down, we grab some fruit, and leave.” He tells her and it is not much of a plan but he seems confident in it and that makes her think that they have a chance. 

“Okay….” She whispers, “Okay.” She repeats a bit stronger forcing her feet to move. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione hates the way that the other children look at her. She hates how they think they did it. Billy looks smug about killing his own Rabbit. Tom’s hand on her is all that keeps her from launching herself at him and hitting him repeatedly. She doesn’t know if she could actually win. But she wants to try it. She wants to make him hurt as she has hurt. She wants to make him bleed for making Tom bleed. 

She has never been a violent person. She likes to think of herself as someone that is rational, logical, tries to see more than one side of things. Her parents always told her to talk out her feelings. Tom is the type to want to scream, or get even. Not usually her… But nothing can be talked out about Billy and his want to cause them to live in even more of a hell. 

And so yes she thinks that violence is the answer, justice has to be served for the innocent life that was ended and the pain that they have felt. She will make him confess, and she will make him repent maybe not to Mrs. Cole but definitely to her. 

~/*\~

They pretend to be repentant they even swear it to a god that they do not believe in. It earns them garden duty for the rest of the summer. The beds will need weeding, the heat is burning, and she even with her darker complexion knows that she will burn under it. Tom turns red, the harsh pink is vibrant against the white parts of him that he is able to cover. The burns are not enough to blister, but they make him not want to move, and not want to sleep with anything touching his skin. They peel and he itches. She has learned how to make ice from water and she makes little cubes to cool the areas that feel like they have a fever. He lets her which makes her know that he is getting used to her helping him. 

Her hands hurt from the pulling, the raking has made her hands raw and blistered. She breaks nails into horrible sharp angles. And she feels no matter how she tries to trim them down there is dirt that is under them. It's hard digging holes, and harder still to move all the dirt. She fears that her arms may rip off somedays.

They adapt though, let the world know that even as messed up as it is to them they will not break. If anything the whole punishment gives Tom access to more animals than he had before to practice on, Large birds like to come and eat the berries that are on some of the bushes. He learns to get them to do what he wants, and there is not a sign that he has caused them damage. Crows are easy to win over with food, so even she can help with training them. Even though she doesn’t have that skill with magic. They are better warning systems than snakes at least for her, she can interpret their different cries.

~/*\~

It takes nearly all summer, but Hermione puts together a plan. 

“Tom.”

He looks up from his place weeding, at the sound of how close she is to him. She had been working on the other side of the yard and perhaps had crept up a bit too softly.

“Yes?” He rubs his forehead with the back of his hands where it is less muddy. 

“I think I have an idea that I would like your help with.” She sits down next to him. “I think I have an idea to get back at Billy and I think it's been long enough that he has been able to bother us.” 

He tilts his head. “I am listening.” 

~/*\~

They hash out the details. Tom knows that he is key to this succeeding, but Hermione is quite the planner. She has thought a lot about what would make Billy truly suffer and making sure that it was untraceable back to them. 

Psychological warfare, like the tribes from South America. The Aztecs used to make horrible noises to keep the tribes they were waring against up for days, circling the area so that there was no escape, before confronting them in combat. They would also kill people far enough away that nothing could be seen but close enough for so the rest of the tribe to hear it. 

And she wants to do that to Billy, make him feel that he is in constant danger, but never actually cause him any real bodily harm. He has to admit that he likes her viciousness. She is so kind towards him, that he didn’t think that she was capable of it. But she was definitely passionate about getting even with Billy and Tom is more than happy to go along with her. 

He is the one that suggests using a rat, a big one. He knows the city has them. He just needs to slip out the fence line to where they throw garbage and he can probably catch one. So the plan is set into motion the second that he has the large thing trapped in a pillowcase. 

~/*\~

Tom lets the rat run the halls by Billy’s room at night. It’s feet sound like the scratching that Coco used to make. He makes it bite on the old currents and the cage. The thing is just big enough that from a distance it looks like it could be a rabbit, be it a small one. They keep it up for weeks, even into the school year. It's so bad Tom can tell that Billy believes that the thing is a ghost haunting him. He just has to hear the scurrying of feet and he nearly faints, and looks like he wants to cry. 

Billy even tries to tell Cloe about how they are harassing him, but even though she hates both of them and thinks that there is something wrong with them. She can not believe him about bringing a rabbit back from the grave. She has him sit in a few bible studies at the church to help him get over the loss of something that must have been so precious to him. 

Tom to add to the horror has the crows follow Billy and tap on his window at odd times of the day. The boy lingers behind them on the walks to school, looking back and around him as the crows follow. 

“A beautiful omen of death.” Tom lets slip loud enough for him to hear. “A perfect Murder of crows.”

Hermione laughs at his joke and hugs his arm for it. 

~/*\~

Time drags on. They have other things expected of them from the facility. They are expected to learn how to sew, mend their own clothes as the newest donation is attended to be used next summer so that the children can go on a trip. Tom doesn’t think that it will be worth giving up all the things that seem like they are for survival just to sit on the beach for a few days. But since he is learning helpful skills like sewing he is able to make out of the old cloth scraps a very small stuffed cat. He uses miss-matched Buttons from the crows. They like to bring him shiny things and they have a few coins saved under the floorboards. 

Hermione loves this birthday gift and it makes all the times that he stabbed himself with the needle worth it. She promises that she will think of something for his that is as meaningful. 

~/*\~

Billy becomes desperate as his lack of sleep, and people that will listen to him dwindles. They think that the death of his Rabbit has scared him beyond repair. It helps give the other children reason not to mess with them, because who wants to be traumatized like that. 

When the inevitable happens and he confronts them. Hermione ever so helpful tells him that it must be his conscience scratching at the insides of his head. She suggests that he had best confess his sins before they actually come back to bite him.

This prompts him to kiss her when they are in their room. He does it on the lips because he has been watching what older people do. And he wants to show her how much he liked that. 

She lets out a small gasp, and he feels like he might have ruined things, as he pulls back but she catches his hand lightly with hers. 

“What was that for?” She is not upset, her face is slightly red, and embarrassed and he likes that look on her. 

“Because I love your mind.” He tells her. He couldn’t have thought up such a perfect revenge without her. 

She smiles at this repeating the kiss that he has given her, and hugs him tight. He can feel her soft magic and her heartbeats. They are always so comforting to him, as well as alluring. It makes him not want to let her go. 

“It was only possible because of you.” 

It makes that warmth spread more, that feeling that he can not place. 

“You are a wonderful wife.” He teases her to cover it all. “If you would listen to me, more often I think you would be perfect.” 

“I always listen to you, doesn’t mean that I will do everything you ask of me.” She retorts. 

~/*\~

The years blend together, she is getting older and she starts to notice the ways that people look at her and Tom. She has heard the Matrons talking about how they don’t like Mrs. Cole kept them together as it’s not proper. She is nearly 10 and she has no idea what that means. 

She asks Tom about it but he just assumes it's because they are the opposite sex. 

“Doesn’t matter what they do.” He tells her. “Were married and always will be.” 

What perhaps was promises made of scared children has turned into a constant comfort. They know one day that they will be free from this place. They will go to medical school, and they will train to be healers together. Love is simple with someone like Tom. He doesn’t expect much, and nothing has really changed between them. Other than Tom has an obsession with making sure that no one bothers her, possibly hostile or nice alike. She doesn’t want things to change. She knows that after the trip to the cove that no one will ever bother them again. Amy and Denise really should not have tried to drown her, pushing her from the raft like that had consequences and she still doesn’t know what it is that Tom did to them. He won’t tell her but she knows that they deserved it so she doesn’t think too hard on it. 

If they keep up their high marks then people will be clambering to give them apprenticeships. Tom is already grades ahead of most, she is trapped by social confines being female, but Tom shares his books. They continue to share and learn, balancing each other out. She has high hopes for this school year, it has started out pretty well with new access to books since she has been proven to be on a higher reading level. 

~/*\~

It is not a good day, Hermione hides her hair under her winter hat, all that's left of it. She tries to avoid taking it off all the way till bedtime on Saturday. The girls were told they would be getting hair cuts and near everyone had gotten decent cuts, but not her. No Mary had shown just how much she doesn’t like her by slashing her hair.

She never liked her hair but now she hates it even more.

“You have to take it off eventually.” Tom shakes his head. “You might as well take it off now.”

“Promise not to laugh at me.” She does not want to show him what the assistant Matron has done to her. She doesn’t know if he will laugh like a few of the other children or not. Tom finds things that no other human would find funny. He likes seeing some people that are not her hurt. 

He blinks. “You think I would laugh at you?” 

“No, but everyone else that has seen it has, and I…”

“Just show me.” He pulls at the hat. 

His eyes widen when he sees the hack job of her hair. It’s not cut even and it has gone from being at her waist when down to at her shoulders. The bangs are the worst. He isn’t saying anything. She closes her eyes.

“Don’t close your eyes.” He touched her face lightly brushing back the choppy bangs. “It’s horrible what she did to your hair.”

His soft voice isn’t helping.

She starts to cry a little because they are going to go to school on Monday and everyone will see it. Hell, they will all see it on Sunday. How is she supposed to look acceptable when her hair looks like this. 

“Don’t cry.” Tom hardens his voice a little. “I might be able to fix it.” 

“Really?” She dares to hope.

He makes a face that she can not really read, “I can’t make it much worse. There are still some inches to play with.” 

He goes to his school bag and takes out a pair of scissors. 

“Sit at the desk.” He instructs. 

She does and he hesitates behind her. “If it turns out like shit, don’t blame me. I have never cut hair.” 

“Tom, don’t swear.” She glances back at him.

“I can tell you about my plans to torture people like Billy and others that bother us, and that is okay, but I can’t use strong language.” He raises a dark delicate brow. 

She shakes her head. “Aren’t husbands supposed to be gentlemanly?”

He laughs softly. “Aren't wives not supposed to talk back?” 

“That's just what Pastor Willams says.” Hermione sits still for him as she feels his fingers running through her hair. “I don’t have to listen to him, nothing he says is remotely true. He just uses God to his own ends like Cole. We both know what he is doing behind closed doors with the altar boys.”

“One of the reasons that I am glad that I have been branded a Demon.” Tom’s voice is bitter. “If I was like Luke…” His voice trails off and he changes the conversation point quickly. “Hold very still now.” 

She does and she can hear the blades hitting each other, she can feel little bits of hair being taken off. She closes her eyes and breathes slowly not moving. It takes a very long time in comparison to when Mary did it. Tom is measuring she can feel it with the way that he rubs some of the strands with his fingertips. 

He stands over her as he works on the bangs. 

“I am going to do my best with these, not much to work with.” He mutters. 

The bangs take him longer as he tilts her head this way and that. She meets his eyes a few times, and she can see them shimmer with determination and concentration. Tom is cute, she can not help but think the way that he bites on the tip of his tongue and makes faces. She doesn’t say anything though because then he will lose whatever creative tact he is taking to fix the mess. 

Her head feels lighter than it has ever felt in her life. She can see all the hair on the floor. It's short she can feel the ends cupping her face. 

“I did the best I could.” He tells her in a voice that commands her not to blame him if it looks bad. 

And even if he is a perfectionist that thinks he is good at everything with few exceptions he is shifting a little where he stands when he hands her the mirror. It is short, but she supposes that is the style, it looks so much better, it's a lot more even. She can’t put it up anymore but she is sure that it will be fine. 

“It looks very nice thank you.” She feels at it. 

And he scuffs. “Of course it does, I said I would fix it. Now help me clean up this mess, and turn out the lights before Mrs. Cole decides it's time for a wellness check."

~/*\~ 

When she is laying with him his head is still resting on her head, even without the usual poof that he likes to bury himself in. 

“I miss your long hair.” He sighs. She knows that he liked it, even if it was a lot of work and this will be a lot simpler. 

“It will grow back.” She tries to smile at him. 

“I know, but it will be a long time.” 

“Yes.” She agrees because she doesn’t know what else to say. 

“You're still pretty, stop acting like you aren’t.” He gets annoyed at her sullenness about the loss of so many inches, and perhaps the thought that she was not as lovable to him. But then this is Tom and she really doesn’t have to worry about him leaving her for anything. She leans into him feeling the coolness of his magic and the beating of his heart. 

~/*\~

Tom plays with the small black band that he has on his wrist. He twists it and stretches it just slightly, not enough to make it break and not enough for it to really snap back and hit him. He just needs to grab it. He gets angry when Hermione is gone for a long time. It makes him envision all the terrible things that she could get herself into. 

Mrs. Cole and Mary are really the only threats to them but since they live under the same roof. He can worry about what they could do to her. It’s Sunday and the female orphans were invited to the pastor's wife’s home to talk about things that girls apparently needed to know to continue to belong to the Lord. Hermione hates it. She tells him that she won't be a doll housewife when she is older. It is something that Tom has accepted when it comes to her. He doesn't always like the way that she fights him on things, but if she didn't do that he probably would find himself in more trouble. She also wouldn't be nearly as interesting. 

She shows up a little later. There are no signs of bruises or marks. She has wet eyes though and they twist at his insides. 

“What happened?” He demands holding her shoulders tightly. 

“I was outside.” She blinks, staring off into space, just past him. “I saw someone die, they jumped from the church roof. They hit the pavement, bent funny and there was a lot of blood.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that so he just says, “Who?” 

“I know that is what I must have looked like, when I fell...” She goes on. “But he didn’t pull himself back together. He just crumpled there. And the worst part was it was Pastor Willaims his blue eyes were wide and blank. Everyone was screaming and you know what Tom I was glad he was dead. I was glad that he fell and that he was dying still there crumpled on the ground.” 

“He’s dead?” Tom can hardly believe it. 

“Yes and I am glad, does that mean there is something wrong with me?” She asks him as if he has all the answers. “I know that he was a horrible person…”

“He deserved it.” Tom smiles at her. “I’m glad he is dead. I wish I could have seen it. Seen the horror in his face when he realized that he was going to hell for all the things that he has done to people.”

She nodded slowly, almost like a doll. “Perhaps it is better that he is dead.” 

A few days later it comes into light what Pastor Willaims had been doing, there are people accused of knowing and hiding the facts that they knew. But it all settles quickly as Tom is sure that money is thrown about, and the church gives a few things to the orphans and families that have been impacted. Tom doesn’t like Luke, he doesn’t like people that all they do is flinch and cry. But he knows that a few measly pounds are not going to help to fix the boy. It is again something that strikes him about the real world in comparison to all the books that he reads. In life after the bad villain is taken down, there is no happy ending for everyone, the villain is gone and forgotten about and so is the damage that they have done, but the victims remain. 

~/*\~

Tom turns 11 and his birthday is not celebrated like usual besides anyone but himself and Hermione. They spend it outside the fence and sneak themselves into one of the London theaters. They keep quiet and unseen. 

_In Old Chicago_

Tom likes the film well enough, probably because he has never seen a film before and is fascinated by the movements on the screen, the voices, and the acting. They leave after it is all done the same way that the entered and are chased for a little as the owner noticed them. They play at the park after their escape, all the years of running away paying off. There is no one there on this type of cold day, the swings bring cold past his thin jacket with each pump. But he thinks that he is starting to understand why these things are so sought after during recesses. There is something freeing about it. Almost like he is flying... he wonders if there is a way to do that. He can push things and make them float, there could be a way to get himself to float. 

Hermione is not a fan of him trying it. "If we were meant to fly we would have wings." She shakes her head at him. 

"We have artificial wings with planes." He counters. 

They walk around for hours not really having an aim to what they are doing or going but enjoying each other's company. They take a little time by the water to throw rocks against the ice. Hermione is not brave enough to walk out onto it very far, but Tom goes further out so that he can slide a little on it. He wants skates now because if he can't fly then maybe he could glide better than just pushing the air around him is allowing him. 

They get back into the orphanage late, but Cole by some miracle doesn’t notice that they were gone. It is probably because there are a few new children that she has been directing her wicked gaze towards.

_~/*\~_

In the morning there is cold snow stacked high on the sill. Tom is going over their essays again, even though Hermione is sure that they are fine. He doesn't understand why its annoying her so much. He just wants to make sure that they are perfect. She leans into him half asleep, as a compromise. They pull quickly apart when they hear footsteps coming closer to their room. 

The door swings open with little warning and Mrs. Cole is standing there with a man that is wearing a nice suit and a long scarf. He looks like he has money, and his face doesn't seem really as friendly as he is trying to make it. There is no way that he is there because he wants to adopt them. He is either an important new member of the staff or someone bad... 

Those blue eyes twinkle weirdly and he feels a slight chill go through him. Hermione looks like she has seen a ghost, she is shaking slightly. 

“You both have a visitor.” The way that Mrs. Cole says it is too sweet, not to make Tom's insides turn. It has to be a mental health doctor. She has been threatening to send them to get treatment as they are becoming a bit too powerful for her to handle. Tom can influence her very slightly, by making her think that she has already hit him. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. He narrows his eyes. He already doesn't think he likes the man that is standing there. If he concentrates hard enough he can definitely feel something off in the air around him. 

Perhaps he has magic... that would explain why Hermione is freaking out. His understanding is that the only other magical people that she has met, besides him tried to kill her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all, you mother's of children or pets wishing you a very wonderful day.

The room is small, not that anyone should expect much of a Muggle space, especially not from an orphanage. Albus Dumbledore had been to many in his few years teaching at Hogwarts. The first world war had ripped apart many families. Still, the room was probably a bit smaller than most of the other rooms that he had passed. It can hardly fit the two beds and the desk that has been pushed to the far wall facing the window. 

He has heard much about how the children he is about to see are odd. There were claimed incidents including things breaking, a dead rabbit, and 2 little girls that were not quite right upon following the boy into a cave. Apparently they were scared, beyond repair. Albus prizes himself as a man that reserves judgment until he has met an individual for himself and can make his own calls about them. Too many of his colleges would pass off their beliefs about a student to the others and thus painting them into a very particular light. He though has to admit that if anything she has mentioned did, in fact, happen because of the two magical children that she has in her care that it is concerning. 

There are two children that are looking at him now, seated very close together. They are the ones that he has made the trip here for, both are 11 and unaware what they are. He doesn’t claim to know who their parents were, or much else about them then what the Muggle Matron has tried to tell him, as the files that he was given from the Ministry were very thin. 

Tom Riddle, the boy has a hard look on his face and the girl, Hermione Granger, is shaking like she has just seen some sort of boggart come out of her closet. He can not be sure if it is the Matron that has brought about her fear or it is him that has caused such a reaction. He doesn’t find himself to be horrifying in any way but he knows that not all children would feel that way, especially if they have no trust left in them left for adults. 

The boy is only a hair taller than the girl. He has something in his eyes that allude to just how powerful he is. There is magic in the air, it is saturated and he can tell that despite their innocent like faces that they have been practicing it. There are darker tints and taints, that he can feel as he wandlessly checks them. 

He nods to Mrs. Cole and she ducks out of the room. 

“How do you do.” He greets them. “It is nice to meet the both of you.” 

He takes this greeting as a chance to get closer to them. Tom is thin, almost too thin. His eyes have black under them from lack of sleep, with his complexion it almost looks like hollow pits around the socket. Everything else about him gives off the appearance of a fine-looking young man. His clothes fit him well enough but it is warm in the room, and he is wearing long sleeves and nearly all his flesh is covered. Hermione, on the other hand, is in a skirt and he can see an ugly bruise on her knee. She looks more alive than Tom. Her magic is not nearly as composed and controlled. He can feel it. 

“Are you the doctor?” Tom demands the second that the Matron is no longer in earshot. “Because if you are, you can leave, there is nothing wrong with us.” 

He says it with such conviction. Albus can tell that he is certainly the more vocal of the both of them. Perhaps even brave to talk to someone in that sort of tone. 

“I am not a doctor, I am a professor.” He again tries to smile and the girl grips hard onto Tom’s arm. 

“I don’t believe you.” Tom bites out. “She wants us looked at, they think we’re different.”

He is also very distrustful, it made him wonder how hard this one has had it. 

“ Perhaps they are right.” He nods, taking a seat on the nearest bed, he has a feeling that this is going to be a very long conversation. 

“We’re not mad.” Hermione squeaks. “We’re not.” 

Her grip on the other may cause the boy’s arm to bruise but he doesn’t make a face. If anything Tom has not taken his eyes off of him. It is almost unnerving the way he hardly even blinks. Albus can not tell if it is because he just is that unfeeling to the pain that he might be feeling or he is trying to protect his roommate. 

“Hogwarts is not a place for mad people. Hogwarts is a school, a school of magic. You both can do things can’t you, things other children can’t. Perhaps when you were anxious, or upset.”

Hermione makes a soft noise and Tom’s eyes dart to her, moving the arm that she is holding onto her leg as if to steady her. 

“Yes,” Tom says cooly. 

Dumbledore waits for him to elaborate but he doesn’t he just stares blankly at him and there is more magic in the air, it is mostly coming from Hermione. 

“Who are you…” She whispers. “What is it you want?” 

“I’m like you, both I am different.” He leans a little forward. 

“Prove it.” Tom all but demands, despite the way that Hermione is shaking her head at him as if to say no. 

He nods and the small wardrobe sets itself aflame, yet doesn’t burn, because that would be very irresponsible of him. He knows that floating objects or things breaking are not the best show of magic. They are things that Musicians can do or be tricks, but this display shows discipline. Tom’s face has the slightest hint of a smile. Hermione though has now started crying. Which causes Tom to frown deeply and start whispering things to her that are too soft to be heard. 

He puts the fire out. 

“I am sorry to have frightened you, Hermione.” He offers his apologizes because he didn’t truly wish to scare her. She seems horrified by magic. He has not seen a child so nervous about seeing it performed before. Usually showing magic is enough to perk curiosity and show that others could do something that might make them afraid to do in front of others. 

“Do you want me to tell him…” He can just make out Tom’s little whispers. 

Hermione is gripping hard against him now, she slowly gives a nod, her tears are slowing from whatever it is that he has told her. 

“Hermione’s parents were killed by people that could do magic,” Tom explains for her. “They cut them to pieces.”

Dumbledore can not help himself when he blinks and blanks for a solid second. Her only experience with magic was probably her own terrified outbursts and someone using it to cause deadly harm. This visit was really off to a very rough start. Though he can not help but feel horrible for the girl. 

“I am very sorry to hear how your parents passed away. But I promise you, not all magic is used to break or harm others. It can be born out of our greatest happiness.” He holds up his hand, taking a small pebble and creates a small bird that chirps and slowly hops down his hand towards her. There is the faintest trace of wonder on her face. She lets go of Tom ever so slightly. “See.” 

He motions for her to take it. And she reaches out her hand and the small bluebird lands on her finger. As this happens Albus makes a mental note to see if he can find anything more on the Murder of Granger’s parents. 

“Is it possible to learn that?” Tom asks, he is smiling slightly and that original creepy feeling of the boy is gone. He looks very happy that Hermione is slightly less worked up. 

“At Hogwarts, you would be taught not only how to use magic but how to control it.” He explains. Hermione is watching both the enchanted bird and him. Her eyes are not as glossy. She is starting to accept that he will not be attacking her. It makes him nervous to suggest taking her to Digian Ally to get her school supplies. There would be a lot of Witches and Wizards around. 

“Are there a set amount of abilities a person can do?” Tom tilts his head, “or is it possible to learn anything?” 

“Well Magic does have fundamental rules, there are things even it can not achieve. But a skilled Witch or Wizard can learn many different practices. Hogwarts has 21 different subjects in which a student can study.”

“Is one of them how to control and train creatures?” Tom tilts his head. 

Control them… That phrasing doesn’t sit well with him. 

“We have care for Magical Creatures.” He decides to test the waters, and see how the boy will react to it.

“Oh…” He trails off. “What about talking with them?” 

“Talking, what do you mean by that Tom?” 

Hermione looks at him now with intelligent brown eyes. She seems to know that he is slightly uncomfortable with Tom’s unique question. The children he decides then and there are a little odd. Nothing that is insanely concerning but definitely odd. Tom senses her unease and seems to react by clamming up altogether. 

“Can Magical creatures talk?” Hermione shifts the conversation as if that was where it was intending to go. She does this with an ease that shows that she has experience with covering for Tom and trying to please adults. 

“Some can.” He answers easily. 

“I see.” She says and watches as the bird he has created turns back to being a small stone. Tom looks particularly fascinated by the action of it. 

Things have lapsed back into silence. 

“The school year will start on September 1st should you wish to attend. I have on me your letters.” He produces them from one of his many pockets and hands them their letters. “If you wish to attend, send a letter to the enclosed address with the stamps and envelope included. I will be more than willing to take you to get your school supplies, July 31st. If not write in your letters of response for specific instructions of how to get to Diagon Alley.”

He doesn’t wish for them not to take his help, but he does know that their trust of adults will be near non-existent. He can see the bruise sticking out of Tom’s oversized sweater as he shifts his shoulders. Trying to force them to interact with him before school starts could chase them away. They need to go to school or they do have a very high possibility of being Magical Liabilities. 

Hermione nods her head. “If it is okay with you sir, I would like to give you my response now.”

Tom blinks at her, his face going from shocked back to near unreadable. 

“Of course.”

“I would like to go, but I know that we will not be able to afford it. Mrs. Cole is not going to pay to have us sent to school. She would be happy to get rid of us but I don’t think that will constitute funds.”

“Hogwarts has a fund for such things.” Albus smiles his best one at her. “We believe in taking care of all our students. We provide all meals, and housing for 9 months of the year, until a Witch or Wizard graduates and is of age.” 

Hermione bows her head. “Then I would like to go, will Tom and I be able to room together?” 

His smile becomes a little strained. “We at Hogwarts sort students into houses, these houses are decided by character. And even then when sorted we separate the house by male and female dorms.”

She looks very uneasy by this fact. “What if…” She trails off. 

“We can’t be separated!” Tom looks just as upset if not more there is distress poorly disguised by anger.

“I assure you that Hogwarts is safe and there would be plenty of opportunities for you both to be together even outside of classes and if you are in different houses.” 

Tom doesn’t look satisfied by this, Hermione looks a little uncertain about it but at least more open to trying. 

They are very connected. It is almost heartwarming, but also the dependency on each other could be hazardous to both of them. People needed to be able to interact with others, in order to understand other perspectives and to grow. They both needed practice with proper socialization, this place was not good for it. 

He steers the conversation away from the idea of them being apart and brings up the honor code, Wizarding laws, and answers a few of Tom’s more pointed questions. Albus at the end of his visit still feels slightly concerned for the children. Especially with how eager they are to take a ticket out of the orphanage. He is going to have to keep tabs on them at Hogwarts.

~/*\~

Tom listens for the footsteps to retreat. He holds himself there and makes sure that he is gone. 

“What did you think of him?” Tom asks her because while professor Dumbledore might not have been a doctor, Tom still felt like he had been under examination.

“He has a lot of magic.” Hermione comments. “And his smile looked off.” 

She is still shaken by the interaction. Tom knows it is because of her memories, it was not just something to bring up lightly. The professor seemed greatly upset about the fact that people would use magic in such a way. It makes him wonder who they were and why. But he also knows that it happened nearly 6 years ago, and she needs to get over her fear of magical people if they are going to be going into a whole nother world. 

“That is what I thought too.” Tom scowls. “ At least he doesn’t seem like the type that abuses students.”

Tom knew a few that would. It is an unspoken rule that they do not talk about things that happened at the church and the lessons that happened there. Not even with the pastor dead. This man had looked disturbed by the idea of violence. 

“But he seems cold.” Hermione agrees with him. “Like he doesn’t know anything about how to work with children.”

Tom could see the coldness. How could he not? They were still here. He saw the way that the man had seen the bruises and he had done nothing. Much like those that had come before him. Perhaps he thought paying for them to leave for 9 months would be enough? 

Still, he is someone that despite the reluctance will be able to teach them something very precious. Something that could save them even if they are not supposed to technically use it around Muggles, or non-magical people outside of educational settings.

“He isn’t though like our past teachers, Tom is a little excited at least about that. “He is magic and perhaps there aren't many people that can do it to teach.” 

He said something about very few magical people 1 to 100 Muggles or something like that. If that didn’t prove that they were special and chosen for something greater he didn’t know what did. 

“Yes but still, our past teachers seemed to have wanted their job. He looks a bit lost. You saw the way that he set the wardrobe on fire? It is not a good way to introduce magic.” Hermione shakes her head. She still does sound a little disturbed by that and as always cautious. 

Tom figures that they will, of course, have to be careful around him, just like they are most adults. Adults and other people then them are not to be trusted very much. They didn’t have the same promises to each other. They would sell them out, and professor Dumbledore should he think they are using Magic for things that they shouldn’t, could decide to retract the funding or allowing them into such as school.

But still, the idea of being able to control flames interests him greatly. Tom smiles slightly, he would like to learn that ability. The wardrobe had not burned but it had the feeling of heat and it would make the others terrified of them. It could be the thing that drove Cole to quit. 

“Tom.” Hermione doesn’t like the look. 

“I just think it was impressive. Most people probably would.” He shrugged. 

She sighed deeply. 

He didn’t like it when she made that face at him. It was not his fault that he thought that the fire was cool. The bird was pretty while it lasted, but the fire was something else. It would be something that was actually useful. The bird at best could be a distraction that fell apart after it served its purpose. 

“I’m sorry if it bothered you though.” He offers. 

She gives him a look because she knows that he isn’t completely, but accepts it nevertheless. 

~/*\~

They try to sleep apart for the first time in a very long time as school approaches. They need to prepare for the chance that they are not placed together. The idea is unsettling. Hermione doesn’t like being away from Tom and she knows that he doesn’t like it either. It ends up being annoying and they end up back together. They will probably just have to deal with it when it comes time to separate by dorms. 

While her nightmares are nearly non-existent anymore. She still feels like she needs to be close to him. She likes to be next to someone that is more gifted in magic that can be defensive than she is. Tom is the one that can make people hurt by looking at them not her. He can get them if he really concentrates to leave him alone. Something that works well perhaps against people that are not magical. He also is able to slam people, even adults away from himself. 

She has gotten better at applying her magic to wounds, she can heal Tom slightly now, mostly small scrapes. It's not as impressive as the things that she can do for herself, but it is possible that one day it will be. She can manipulate water, which is hard for Tom. It might have to do with it taking a gentle touch and Tom is not very gentle in anything that he does. He tackles it head-on, with wit and determination. He is not that patient. He is impulsive unless convinced not to be. Usually showing in brief flashes how upset and angry he is about something. 

Tom wears a very nice mask for others, but she knows what is under there. She has seen the things he can do and heard him say what he would like to do. Things with Cole are violent of what he wants to do to her, what he would do if he could get away with it. She has seen his retaliation's effects on Denise and Amy. And yet she does not care. She has always felt safe with Tom, even if he can get violently upset at other people, he has never gotten that way with her. He promised to protect her and he does. She tries her best to be at his side, support him in other things. 

She doesn’t want it to change. She is nervous about how strong they will be compared to others that have had more practice with magic. She is even more scared of going to get their supplies alone. She understands that it is best not to be watched when they make their purchases. It would not do to have to not be able to explore how they liked. But she still is not like Tom, she doesn’t have his bravery. She wishes that she did. 

She can be brave when she is in a very hard situation. She has stood up to Cole a few times, and she has shown her fangs at the other orphans. But she feels that it is a poor imitation of Tom’s readiness to push forward. She isn't sure how to bury her past. She isn’t even really sure about why she remembers the world differently in her dreams. But if they are going to survive they really do need to be able to be apart sometimes and they need to be able to succeed at Hogwarts. 

~/*\~

They will ration the gold that they have been sent for supplies accordingly, but there could be things that would be best to have that are not on the list. Tom takes the money that the crows have collected for them and a few pounds that are given to them by Mrs. Cole to leave and get what they need. 

Tom doesn’t think that he has ever seen someone so happy with the fact that they will be gone all day and the day they are leaving for 9 months is approaching. He would love to show her just what he thinks about her plan of giving their room away and having them sleep on cots or something in the storage room when they get back for the summer. But he is not about to run his mouth and have her retract in giving them money for decent transport and maybe a nice lunch out. 

Tom would love to take Hermione out. He has seen a few movies now, and he knows that is what people that are in love did. He knows that technically they are “married” but that doesn't mean that they shouldn’t be going out. The older orphans talk about dancing and Hermione always looks interested in that part of the movies. He can not dance, nor has he ever had real money in his hand before. So he wants to pretend like they are normal for a few hours. Well as normal as they can be considering that they are special and are magical. 

They make their way through London and look at a few windows on the way. Tom doesn't really have an interest in clothing, but Hermione looks at the many different people they pass. And he understands again that there is a divide between them and other people. They deserve a lot more than what they have. They look terrible in comparison to anyone that they pass. Old worn clothes that are stained from poor laundry treatment. They can look as clean and nice as they want but their clothes will always give them away as someone that comes from nothing. Tom hates it. He hates the looks and promises himself that one day he will not have anyone staring at him with such disgust or pitiful looks. He will be turning heads as he will be well dressed and Hermione would be on his arm, in something modern. They would go home to a nice place with lots of open space, where they could practice magic in peace. 

His pleasant daydreams are interrupted when they reach the Leaky Cauldron. It looks very run down. It probably looks that way on purpose, but it still gives him pause. He is not a fan of places that allow for drinking. He has seen what the stuff does to people. Hermione grips his hand hard and pushes the door in. she is trembling slightly, but if she is going to be brave the least he can do is be the same. 

There are a few people that turn to look at them from their booths. Tom knows where to go; he has the letter in his hand. There are a few people that nod seeing it. 

“Welcome to the Wizarding World.” the barman says as he tilts his head towards the backdoor. 

Tom holds Hermione up so she can tap the center brick as they both are a little short. Tom almost feels embarrassed by his stature as in the years that he has been with her he has hardly grown. It might have to do with the poor food that the orphanage has, he is sure that if he had good food that he wouldn’t be so thin. 

The wall opens, and Tom again is reminded of how much he likes magic. There is a whole world beyond this point. There are so many people wandering between shops, there are things flying around. Owls and other birds are swooping down onto many different posts. 

The place was beautiful and strange. He can feel the magic, it’s filling him with warmth. He realizes that he is smiling for the first time in a long time a real smile. He was happy. Heh… He can hardly remember what the feeling feels like. The best feelings he has are usually attached to Hermione or the rare satisfaction that he got from being acknowledged at school for his achievements. 

But this…

This is the most amazing feeling that he has had since Hermione told him that she loved him. This has to be the closest he can really feel to her happiness for little things. 

She is smiling too, that very large one, the one that always feels like she has absorbed the sun. He hasn’t seen it in a very long time. They might be 11. But Tom knows that in spirit they are much older. They have seen and been on the receiving end of horrible things, things that normal children don’t understand. That other children are blissfully unaware of as they have protection from it. For the longest time, Hermione has been looking at the world with dulled eyes. 

Tom knows that she gets tired of a lot of things, the only time she seems to be alive was when they were at school or learned something new they could do with magic. But now she is alive. She is vibrant as the first time that he met her. There is color to the world again and it's because there is a world to explore and learn from. 

“Come on.” He takes the first few steps for them, bringing them into the street. 

They read over their list and decide the first place to start is the robe shop, they will probably need a cheap variety or handy down robes, but if they can budget really well they can probably spend more money on books. Tom would like to look nice at school, but he knows knowledge is more useful to him. 

They are able to buy some nice black robes, they are in pretty good shape and Hermione picks out material rather than hats, as she is sure that she can make their own. They have sewing experience and she is sure that she can make something with the scraps of it. The seamstress that is selling them most of their clothes wants to help them with all the fittings, but they don’t have the money for that, and Hermione knows how it's done. They can bribe one of the older orphans to help if needed. They do have her fit them for sweaters though, as they know that they need vests and such to go under their robes and Tom is concerned with trying to touch anything that is knit. 

They next decide to get wands as they are lighter than books, cauldrons, and trunks will be. 

The shop for wands looks like it has never been cleaned, not once. There is so much dust that Tom coughs a little when he takes in the smell of old boxes, damp wood, and sawdust. But even with all that present, there is something very magical about the place. 

“Hello.” A man smiles at them. He speaks so very softly, moves so softly that Hermione jumps next to him. Tom might not have jumped but he feels his heart was beating faster. He is not sure where the man came from. It was like he came out of the darkened corners of his shop.

‘Hello.” Tom greets with his best fake smile and friendly voice. “We’re here to get wands.” 

He tries to show what a child would feel, as of course, that was why they were there. 

“Indeed.” The man nods, motioning them to come closer. Hermione surprises him by dropping his hand. The warmth is missed but the man probably needs to do more than hand them some sticks of wood. He looks to be studying them. 

He takes Hermione’s hand first, measuring tapes start to move around him as he makes mental notes. He then moves back beyond the shelves. Tom watches as the measuring tapes start to move towards him as well. 

~/*\~

Hermione adjusts her bag that has the cloth in it and their robes. Tom’s will have to hold their books and they can hopefully drag the trunks behind them with the cauldrons inside. Having a wand sounds strange, she had never needed one to call her magic to her.

He brings her a few boxes. 

“The wand chooses the Witch or the Wizard, it is not always clear exactly why it does this. If you find that you have to try and use another Witches and Wizards wand that it is not the same. I pride myself on my wands here. You will never find better craftsmanship of that I am certain.” 

He takes out a pretty gray wand and hands it to her.   
“Give it a wave.” He urges and Hermione flicks her wrist. 

The nearest shelf snaps in half and boxes tumble. She winches, but he doesn’t say anything negative about it. 

“Perhaps this one instead.” 

She takes that one and waves it. There is again something that breaks. She is forced to try a great deal of wands. 

“A tricky customer.” The man mumbles, disappearing into the back for a couple of minutes. 

She is starting to worry that she might not be able to find one. What would that say about her if she was unable to have a wand. 

He comes back with a wand that doesn’t have a box. It is freshly polished and he holds it with a work cloth. 

“I just made this one a few days ago, perhaps it will suit you.” 

The wand has a very light coloring, it has vines that wrap around it and is very pretty. She feels drawn to it before she even picks it up, and the second that she flicks it, there is an explosion of pretty blue and gold lights. It is like that time that she was in the closet when her Magic met Tom’s and there was a display of color. It's warm, it hums, and she instantly knows that it is the right one. It is the very thing that was made and meant for her to have. It is her wand and she doesn’t even want to put it down. 

“10¾" long, made of vine wood, and possesses a dragon heartstring core.” The wandmaker smiles a little lovingly at the wand in her hand. “I wanted to give it a shape and color that is reminiscent of the beautiful creature that gave the core.” 

She nods and feels almost horrible handing it to him to have it boxed. 

“And now you.” He nods to Tom. 

Tom is doing his best not to look eager, but Hermione can see that he is excited. It's all in his eyes they have a glint to them and his mouth is twitching like he is holding back a large smile. 

The process repeats itself but Tom’s wand comes to him much sooner than hers. The wandmaker seems very good at guessing people’s wands and she wonders if the wood or the cores are sorted by personalities. She doesn’t ask though, as she doesn’t want to disturb the process. 

The final result for his wand is one that looks like it is bone, it is carved elegantly like hers is. And she knows that it is the one for him by the way that his eyes widen when he touches it. When he waves it, magic blacks out the store, and there are stars shining. They twinkle brightly and the man starts clapping. 

“A brilliant display, most brilliant.” 

Tom is smiling by the praise, not even bothering to hide how amazed he is. 

“I can tell that you will be a most skilled and powerful Wizard.” The man beams. “ That wand is 13½" long, I crafted it from yew wood and affixed it with a phoenix feather core, a strong and difficult one to handle, but it defiantly suits you.” 

Hermione has never once been jealous of Tom, but she feels it slightly at that moment. He really is a lot stronger than her. But she shakes herself, as he turns around because she doesn’t want to dampen his good mood. Tom so rarely is recognized for anything, and there will be plenty of time to practice and make sure that she is on his level. She wants to be his equal, she is supposed to be his other half and she has never worried about that or felt such determination to catch up to him.

She keeps up a decent mood through buying the trunks and the cauldrons. They get ink and other simple supplies, and she feels that people are staring at them. They are dressed well, and she knows what they look like, but she doesn’t understand what they are whispering. 

She doesn’t know why they would have such cold eyes, she is reminded of that fateful night and clings a little to Tom. He raises an eyebrow at her, but she doesn’t meet his questioning gaze. 

~/*\~

“Let's stop for a moment.” Tom sighs, he admits that he is getting tired. He is glad that the trunks are enchanted and they can put everything into them. They wheel well and he is glad for that. They park themselves on a bench and Hermione pulls out a snack that she had packed. She hands him the apple and he cuts it into pieces with his pocket knife. 

There are well-dressed Wizards and Witches staring at them. They scowl and one even curls his lip at them. 

“Mudbloods, shouldn’t be allowed to be here.” Someone says loud enough for him to hear as he passes with another man. He has no idea what that means, but he has a feeling that it is nothing good. It makes him feel slightly conscious of himself. He pauses in cutting the fruit. Hermione is busying herself with the letter again, and he doubts that she heard what the man said. 

The book store was full and there was not much room to maneuver, but that was alright. They weren’t in a rush. They find the books that are required and because they have a little more leftover than what they agreed on was a good amount to save just in case. They pick a book out each. Hermione goes for a book on introducing someone to the Wizarding World it includes costumes, holidays, hobbies, and etiquette. 

He agrees that it is something that he will be reading as well. He picks out a book on basic spells that can help out around the home. He knows that it is not a very manly book, but he knows that the things in there would help with their chores, and with mending and making their things look more presentable as everything that they have is second hand except for their wands. 

“You shouldn’t be allowed in here.” A boy is glaring at him. He has a pretty face, almost feminine and his hair is a light silvery yellow. “your magic isn’t worth anything.” 

Tom blinks, his fingers twitching to hurt the other, to make him take it back. But he doesn’t want to be forced to leave because he caused a scene. Hermione is in line to pay for their books. 

“God this store has gone to the dogs if they serve your kind. I don’t want to shop here.” The boy shakes his head stalking off towards the other shelves. 

His mood is ruined. Tom hardly can control the magic inside of him, it burns with his anger. Who did this kid think that he was? Tom had magic and he was just as deserving of it as anyone else. There couldn’t be any other kinds of people. They were all magical and human.

Hermione returns and places the books into her trunk. She eyes him with those concerned doe-like eyes. And he tries his best to simmer down. He can just be glad that she didn’t hear what the boy had to say. 

~/*\~

The rest of the summer passes by in a blur as they study their respected books and prepare themselves for the upcoming school year. Tom hurts his hand with how much he practices with ink and quill he wants to make sure that his handwriting is flawless. He practices the etiquette in the book that Hermione bought. He now understands why people don’t like them. 

They are Muggle Borns… or at least seem that way. Tom never knew his parents. He knew that his mother seemed ugly to Cole who was there when he was born, she had assisted Mrs. Wool who retired long ago in the delivery. His mother had died after childbirth. They thought that she was some sort of entertainer form a circus so it was possible that she was magical and her robes were confused for circus attire. But then what of his father? 

Why would they leave him here when it seemed costume to have friends and family dedicated by spelled promises to take care of a child should the parents die. At best he was a half-blood, with no way to prove it, worst case he was a Muggle-born and they would hate him from being descended from Muggles… 

He knows that Hermione’s parents couldn't use magic, she doesn’t seem bothered that she could be one, but that is because she didn’t hear what the boy in the shop had said and she had not seen the hateful eyes that were watching them or is she did she had assumed it was because they looked downtrodden. 

He is worried about school. He is determined to make it seem like there is more to them than blood status but he doesn’t know how great his pushback will be. It might interfere with his idea of playing nice with teachers. 

~/*\~

They leave tomorrow for the train. Hermione wraps herself tightly against Tom. This is the last night that they will be able to be like this. She doesn’t want it to end. She likes the way that his hand is in her hair that has grown nearly back to where she would like it. She knows that she has a stuffed cat, but she doesn’t think that will remotely be the same as having someone warm next to her. 

“Tom.”

His eyes shift to her from the ceiling. “Yes?” 

“No matter what happens, promise that we'll still make time for each other.” She feels her eyes getting a little wet, but she is not going to cry. She won't allow herself to. 

“Of course.” He scuffs. “I promised that I would be reliable and that I would protect you. That extends past here.” 

She doesn’t know why she was worried. She rolls so that she can see his face better. Sitting up over him. “I love you, you know.” Their eyes lock. “No matter what.” 

His eyes soften a little. “I know, nothing will change.” He reaches up slowly to pull her back down. “Now go to sleep we have to get up early.” 

She laughs a little at the way that he is trying to harden his voice and sleep does find her eventually.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome Back, Friends. 
> 
> (▰˘◡˘▰)
> 
> Note: I don’t own the hat song, or the characters obviously. But since I am directly quoting the song from the philosopher's stone I thought that I would include that side note.

Kings cross station is large. Tom has never been in a building that can house so much, let alone so many trains. There are many people running around to make it to places. At one time Tom would have thought they were going to places far more interesting than him. But now he knows that can not be the truth. Tom is not Muggle, he is special and magical. He is going to a supposedly top tier school and he feels fortunate indeed. Even if he has to go to it in less than perfect clothes, they have been fixed to look as good as physically possible. 

Hermione has suggested that they were the main pieces of the uniform and only put the rest on when they crossed the barrier it would make them seem more in tune with the magical world. Which was exactly what they were trying to do. They were trying not to seem like Muggle-borns. While pureblood houses ran long and traditional, pulling off a Halfblood would be possible. They had studied enough culture to get by and he was sure that they could pull it off. They had a plan. Hermione helped him hatch it. She might not have liked it nor completely agreed with it. But they had one nonetheless and she would go along with it. He had convinced her. The goal was to at least not be at the bottom of the pecking order. He wanted Hogwarts to be a relief from Wools not another 9-month hell, away from the center of the burning circle. 

It was simple, in a concluded way to create a backstory that wasn't that checkable. Tom’s mother was magical, she married a muggle much to the disappointment of his other family, she was disowned for it. Riddle is his last name because of it. While Hermione, to explain her heritage, was born of a muggle-born and witch couple that moved away from one of England’s colonies. Tom had suggested someplace that would have had darker skin tones as a majority of the population. Hermione had been only slightly offended by his suggestion but had ultimately agreed that there were not may of African descent in Europe. They had grown up together in a small town just outside of London, prominently Muggle as there was a lot of space and comfortability for Tom’s Muggle relatives. It hinged on the fact that most Pureblood families wouldn’t think too hard on it and as long as the staff never brought up them being orphans it would be fine. The only one that Tom could think that could expose them was Dumbledore, but Tom was more than prepared to make a defense against anything the other said. It was very possible that Tom’s Muggle family did not want him after the issues with Magic, and Hermione could admit that her parents had been killed. Mixed race couples were still something that some Muggles disapproved of. By what Tom could tell the only thing that mattered to the Wizard World was one’s bloodline. 

They maneuvered their way through the thick crowds at the station. They didn’t stand out greatly until they passed through the barrier where there were many well-dressed Wizards and Witches. But they hardly paid them any mind, unlike before. They probably saw them as middle class and that was it. Which was much better than the assumption that there was something Magically wrong with them. 

Hermione glanced around them, trying to find the best place to board. They had no need for goodbyes to others and no real need to greet anyone. They would make alleys based on the house that they were placed in. Hermione, however, was a little more hopeful for friends. Tom didn’t think he needed them. All he had ever needed was Hermione and he again was sure that would be the case. 

They sat in an empty car and Tom pushed their trunks into the overhead, after they took out their robes. They had hats, but there was no way that he was wearing one unless he was made to. It had nothing to do with Hermione's craftsmanship either. It had everything to do with it made him feel ridiculous. He had paced something to read, that while not being Wizard literature was one of the classics and he would smack anyone with the book if they were not a fan of Edgar Allen Poe. Tom was a fan of the implied brutality and the horror elements. Hermione pulled out a notebook to review her notes she had already taken about what was sure to be the first week of classes. 

They were alone in the car until the train lurched to life and other students started to wander to find places to seat themselves. Tom recognized one of the people that was with a crowd. It was the boy from the book store. They make eye contact and Tom didn't look away. He never will back down to someone that thinks that he is better than him for a stupid reason. 

Blood means nothing to Tom, he doesn’t believe it has anything to do with what he is capable of. The group pauses by his slight stare off with one of the members. 

“What are you even looking at?” The boy sniffs. 

Tom shrugs as if he had confirmed that they are not worth his time and turns back to his book. 

“Nothing of importance I am sure.” Hermione doesn’t even bother to look up from hers. 

She has already made it clear what she thinks about blood and status to Tom. She saw it as another way to segregate people and while she is not necessarily planning to spread her opinion from the rooftops and ruin chances of herself climbing in education past what is expected of her sex. She is not fond of the idea of socializing with the type of people that remind her of Pastor Willaims, and Cole in their need to beat people down that are different from their chosen right attributes. 

This, of course, has the effect that he was hoping for prompting the group to enter the car. They are the pureblood families or at least those that have high enough status for the blond to want to associate with them. Trying to interact with them, was Tom’s way of seeing if there is anything useful with associating with them or if he should play nice but embrace the dismantlement of their little power tower. He was sure that if he played his cards right he could make anyone that chose to treat him poorly life miserable. 

“Nothing of importance who do you think you are?” The girl that is with them asked. She has short black hair that is done much to the current Muggle style so Tom wonders if things like looks can traverse into the Wizarding world. 

“Well, I am me, and I am I.” Hermione rolls her eyes quoting one of the novels she has read. “But if you must know I am Hermione Granger.” 

“I have never heard of you.” The girl sits and the rest of them as well, drawn in by Hermione and her boldness. 

“Don’t expect you have.” Hermione sighs shutting her notebook. “It’s not like my family or I am famous or anything.”

Tom smiles just slightly at Hermione’s resolve not to make friends with purebloods. 

“I have never seen someone that is quite your shade either.” One of the boys points out. He has blond hair but it is shorter than the one he had met in the bookstore that perhaps doesn’t recognize him since he is not in clothes that are nearly as Muggle. 

“Oh, are you one of those.” Hermione shakes her head. “Been stuck in Europe all your life have you? It would explain your very poor manners.”

The girl laughs. “Avery’s family practically keeps him locked on his property.”

Avery scowls at her and opens his mouth to make a comment but Hermione is already moving on. 

“With tact like that he is probably best staying there. Honestly, there are lots of people that have colored skin like mine, to pretend otherwise or to not realize this is foolish.” Herminoe scuffs. 

Tom can tell that she is bristling under her smooth tone. 

“Don’t be so hard on him, Hermione. He probably hasn’t seen a Witch with your type of beauty before he was stun struck,” Tom adds into the conversation. 

Hermione shoots him a slight look. “Honestly Tom.”

He can tell that she is more flustered by it than anything and he prides himself for making her look that way. He likes her fire, always has, and always will. 

Tom just shrugs. “I tried to give him an out.” 

Avery shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to be offensive, it is just your not the typical type that I have seen come to Hogwarts or around Diagon Alley.”

“Yes well, there are other magical communities worldwide with different cultures. I am sure that if you wish to go far that you will interact with many of them. My advice is not to compliment on a person's skin color if you're going for a compliment go for something like a smile.” 

“I haven’t seen you smile yet.” Avery smoothly adds, giving a very nice charming smile that makes Tom want to punch him. He doesn't like anyone looking at his Hermione like that. 

“And you probably won’t have one directed your way.” She huffs. 

“What if I apologize?” Avery again gives that look of perfectness. 

“I might be persuaded.” Herminoe tilts her head. 

“I hereby apologize to the strange Witch from a foreign land.” 

“Accepted.” She nods. “Perhaps since we are all sitting here introductions are in order?’

“Of course.” The girl beams. “I am Pamella Parkinson. I am a pureblood, and part of the sacred 28, the blond on my left is Avery as I have mentioned, he is a pureblood as well...”

Avery smiles brighter at his introduction

“And the one that has refrained from saying anything is Abraxas Malfoy also a pureblood.” 

“I am Hermione Granger, I suppose I am what you call a Half-blood. Where I originate from it is not as important blood status, but I can understand the importance of preserving heritage and culture. Magical blood and children shouldn’t be raised by Muggles.” 

They nod in agreement with her. 

“And you are?” Pamella asks him. 

“I am Tom Riddle.” He introduces himself. “I am also a Half-blood.” 

Abraxas looks at him with calculating eyes, probably deciding if they have met or not. 

“We grew up together. Hermione smiles nicely. “Tom is very gifted in magic, he can do amazing things without a wand, I admit that I am not nearly as skilled.”

“Wandless magic is impressive.” Pamella is now looking at him, sizing him up. She doesn’t look as dismissive as before. Which is good because Tom knows that he is not someone to be overlooked. They just need to realize it. 

Tom smiled kindly as if he is not at all bothered by having been quiet for most to the conversation. “You are very kind, Hermione, but your skill at transfiguration is impressive.” 

“You just say that because you have issues impacting water.” She snorts. Moving her notebook up to her trunk with a flick of her wrist. The other magical children watch her with fascination and Tom sends his after hers, because well he doesn't want to be showed up, and because he can not see himself going back to reading now. 

“Consider me impressed.” Avery nods his head. “Wandless and nonverbal.” 

“Certainly it is not that impressive to one of the noble 28?” Hermione raises an eyebrow.

“We all have had great magical tutoring.” Abraxas shakes his head. “But it is a damn shame that they do not let us practice what we want to. This whole possible new Dark Lord on the rising has really ruffled some feathers.”

“Yes, it is a tragedy that some of the old holidays can not be celebrated the way that they were intended, because of fear of some ministry officials.” Tom pretends to be up to date with what they are talking about, he knows a little about how things were shifting from Hermione’s book.

“It all has to do with the degradation of our culture. Muggles and Mudbloods are flooding into our world. They fear the old Pagon ways, think it's against their god or whatever.” Pamella shakes her head and her black hair moves crazily with it. “It’s not only annoying how they prance about like tourists, but poses a danger to us. How long will it be till their involvement in our world reaches enough incidental sightings and we’re exposed.” 

“I heard that it has even affected Hogwarts, they don’t call it Yule vacation anymore. It's all about Christmas break and do not get me started about the sacrilege mess they call Halloween.” Avery says bitterly. 

“Anyway since you both perhaps are new to the idea of Hogwarts, any ideas what house you will be in?” Pamella changes the subject. “I hope that I am Slytherin like my father but Ravenclaw wouldn’t be so bad either.” 

“Ravenclaw,” Hermione says without hesitation. 

“Ravenclaw.” Tom follows suit. 

They don’t know much about the houses as there was nothing in their letters about it, and Dumbledore just mentioned it. But picking one that fits their guests in the car is the best way to pretend that they know what they are talking about. 

“Should have guessed the way that you both were reading.” Avery shakes his head. “Don’t rule Slytherin out though. It's quite the old and important house.” 

The conversation is more directed towards Quidditch after that from the boys, and Tom is dragged into that even though he doesn’t think that he will like or want anything to do with the sport. He does mention his wish to learn how to handle a broom, though because it just strokes his ego a little bit that Hermione is wrong about how humans are not meant to fly. 

He eavesdrops a little on what Pamella and Herminoe are talking about but it is circling around parties and things that are nauseating feminine, by the way, that Hermione is now engaging in conversation perhaps she is willing to overlook some prejudice ideals. 

~/*\~

Hermine is glad when the train offers them refreshments, nothing crazy but some free drinks. She takes the water without hesitation so that she can play with what she doesn't drink. She shows off a little bit to Pamella her ability to manipulate it without a wand. It causes Avery and Abraxas to take note of her again, and she can tell that Tom is a little upset with either her ability to unwantingly get all the attention or he is upset because they are looking at her like she is some sort of strange magical creature. And she knows that Tom really doesn’t like sharing her. 

The train ride thankfully ends and they are gathered up by the groundskeeper, Pringle. He leads all first years towards the boats. There is only room for 4 per boat, so Hermione takes Tom’s arm and leads him before he can be left out of any boat that would include her. Pamella follows her pulling along Avery. Abraxas was probably now stuck with trying to find another boat to be a part of. 

They seat themselves towards the front of the boat. Hermione can manipulate water, but she doesn’t like large bodies of it. Tom holds tightly against her. She is not sure if it is a protective measure to make sure she feels safe or to discourage Avery from getting closer to her from the place he is sitting at the end of the boat. She supposes that it really does not matter, she is grateful that he is not trying to hide that he likes her. It will make things easier if people already understand that they are in a relationship. It probably would be a lot safer for anyone else that tries to take her from him.

The night strikes her, she has never seen so many stars. They beam down from above them and sparkle in the water. She can not help but look at the way the black velvet of the sky mixes with the dark water below them to make it seem as if they are floating on top of a giant mirror. She looks for constellations that she has before this point only had the opportunity to look at in books. She knows now that those pages can only be pale imitations of something so beautiful. 

The ride is mostly quiet as even someone that likes to talk so much as Pamella is busying herself with looking around her. The castle looms in front of them. She cannot believe that they are going to be attending such a place. She can not in her wildest dreams have created such an image. Tom has relaxed next to her but not enough to let go of her. He probably is worried that she will fall, and considering that she is not able to swim it is nice that he is taking that into account. 

~/*\~

Dumbledore greets them and introduces the idea of houses to them. Unity to their house, but also to the school. While rivalries were fine, he preached that they were all Hogwarts students and it was important to build relations with those outside of one's own house. There were people already scuffing at the idea, so it told her all that she needed to know about that idea. 

As they step into the great hall there are thunderous claps of welcome. The hall looks like there has been a hole cut in the ceiling and the night had spilled out into it. It's wonderful, she can hardly stop looking about. There are so many people, so many that are like them. 

The sorting hat sits at the front of them all. It sings a song as the claps die down. It opens what seems like a stitched mouth and a voice is pushed through it. 

Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.

The tranquil sound of its voice echoes throughout the hall. It's powerful and she knows it to be true. It has a personality ringing through it and she can not help but wonder what gave it such abilities. How could it be so? 

You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.

It gives her pause because it was going to go into her head, there was not a chance that it would not know the secrets that she kept there. There was not anything more frightening than something that could know all. The haunting voice of Mrs. Cole telling her that God could see even her thoughts makes her shiver. 

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends.

She at least knows what the houses are at the very least and she stands by what she guessed at in the train. She would make a good Ravenclaw. 

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

With its wonderful voice cut off, it sits ready to place judgment. Names are called at seemingly no order so perhaps they are by the order of agreed attendance or by known families first. Either way, Tom is called before she is. The hat sits on his head not even a minute and it chooses Slytherin. It announces it with a thunderous voice and she claps with the others as he takes a seat with Abraxas and Avery that have already been sorted. There are a few more names called and then it is her time. 

She takes a deep breath and mutters to herself trying to make sure that she tries to relax. The hat is sat on her head and the voice that has come from the thing pops into her head. it is like there is just a small pressure on her temples from the thing. 

```` Don’t be afraid of me dear. ```` The voice soothes

`I can’t help it.` She thinks automatically. 

‘I mean I’m not exactly scared of you but of the things you can see in my head.’ She amends. 

````No, that it's reasonable. There are many things that you have lurking in your past, things that ripple through seemingly impossible. Things that have yet to happen, things that have to be. I would consider you to be foolish not to be scared. But yet you show bravery when it comes to protecting someone dear to you.````

`Tom` she instantly thinks of him and his face flashed in her head. 

```Yes there is not a thing that you wouldn’t do for him. You are truly loyal and brave at heart if nothing else for things that concern him. But there is talent yes, and a thirst for knowledge. But there is something even more to you. You want to survive and live. Seeing what happened to your parents, with all that you have blocked out here, it makes sense.```

She takes a deep breath. As there are slight whispers happening around her. As if her sorting was taking too long. 

````The questions becomes where to place you? I have more mind to place you in Ravenclaw for your wish to learn and be alongside like-minded people. There is drive for acceptance. But.. you have such cunning, awareness, and determination, that Slytherin could also be your home.````

`Slytherin.` She thinks hard. 

```Are you sure? Your cleverness could be put to good use in Ravenclaw.```

`Slytherin.`

The hat chuckles slightly. ```Your ambitions to be his equal are strong, so is your want to be greater than your circumstances. I wonder if you can reach these goals in such a house.``` 

`Put me with Tom.` 

```you could grow without him you know, learn on your own...```

`I want to be with Tom, there is no one else that I want to achieve my dreams with.`

```If you are sure.```

`Yes.` She had never been more sure of anything, Tom needed her, just as she needed him. They would have that dream, they would have that house, that family, the acceptance, and never have to suffer at the hands of others again. she would make sure that Tom didn't lose sight of that, she would make sure he didn't get himself into trouble, and he would make sure that her overthinking didn't hold her back. 

```Yes, you will do well there, good luck in your climb to greatness```

~/*\~

It was taking too long. Tom watched with his breath near held. She couldn’t be placed away from him. They had to be together. 

“Its a hat stall.” Avery shakes his head. “Happens sometimes.” 

“It hasn’t been 5 minutes yet, so it doesn’t count.” Someone that is older than them whispered back. 

“Slytherin.” The hat calls and Hermione wears the face of someone that can not be any more relieved. She makes her way over to him swiftly and takes her proper place with him. And he allows himself to relax fully as his biggest fear since starting this journey has not been realized. Not even the founders would separate them. 

The hat told him that his very blood told it that he belonged in Slytherin. He was clever, strong, and ambitious. He wondered if it had something similar to her. Because she was sorted into the house of snakes just as he was. If that was not a sign that they belonged together he didn’t know what did. He tried to ignore the way that there were others watching her in fascination. It was because she was very different then those that were sitting around them and Tom had known that from the moment that he had met her. 

Pamella sat next to her and started attempting to make introductions to others. Her older friend Walburga didn’t seem very interested in Hermione. In fact, that girl looked very judgemental and Tom narrowed his eyes. There were a lot of people in his house that seemed to be that way. Then again this was the house to meet one’s own ends, he doubted that it would be much different than it was in the orphanage, where it was a game of survival. But if he were to build the right connections he would be able to rise. He had big goals, he would be successful no matter where he decided to go or what he aspired to be. 

If he became great he could possibly get them out of the orphanage sooner. They could be well off, and the things that he had always wanted he could get. The hat had only thought Ravenclaw for a moment, because learning would be his greatest asset. 

~/*\~

They ate well. Hermione had never eaten so much and had such choices. She did her best to eat neatly, and not hint at how much she loved the food. But she couldn’t keep herself from smiling, her eyes met Tom’s and she could tell that he was greatly enjoying himself. 

Their house was located underground in the dungeons. The ceiling was the lake and she could see many fish swimming against the light that the common room brought to the depths. Their head of house was the potions professor Slughorn. He brought up house unity but also pointed out because they were Slytherins that they particularly had to watch out for each other as other houses had bad habits of thinking they were up to no good. They were to give them as much hell back as they were given, but as Slytherins, they shouldn't be caught. 

There was one thing that he would not tolerate though. He would not have Slythrin’s using the term Mudblood, or discriminating against Muggle-borns in their house. They were all Slytherins. While it was said Hermione felt her skin crawl with the dead looking faces to that rule. It was like that of any declaration by Cole that was going to be disregarded the second that they were alone. 

His office would always be open, for those that needed help adjusting to Hogwarts life. He then dismissed them to feel free to check their rooms and get to know one another. Pamella and Walburga took Hermione away from the others nearly as fast as possible. They insisted on getting set up in the better spots.

The bedrooms were large, they might have 4 girls to a room. But the space was huge, and the bed would have been easy to spread out on even if Tom was in it too. She had her own desk, shelves, and a dresser. She didn’t hide her awe well and Pamella elbowed her.

“It's not that bad Hermione, the curtains though I admit are horrible.” 

She forced out a laugh because she didn’t know what else to say to that. 

Things winded down with talk of classes and Hermione wondered if this was what it was like to be normal, to possibly have made other friends besides Tom. She realized though when it was lights out that she really did miss him greatly. She didn’t get much sleep. The hat's words about her past seeming to stick at the front of her brain whenever she closed her eyes. 

~/*\~

High above the courtyard, a man stands by a large stained glass window. There is the sound of soft rain hitting the glass pane, the drops run down the glass like streaks of tears. There is the soft sound of the ticking of the small clock on the desk, the radio is staticing with a mental buzz. The man holds still watching the storm roll in overhead. He has reason to worry, the children have been sorted, into Slytherin no less. He had been hoping for Gryffindor so that he could keep an eye on them. 

The girl is not exactly as she appears. Albus turns from the window and closes the file on his desk, she is an anomaly. Usually, when magical children are born they are instantly shown on a list, a counter, something. Granger though, she popped up nearly 7 years ago without a sign beforehand. She shows a great magical core that should have shown by birth. A girl like her just can not exist, should not exist. He looked into every record that he could find. There is no Granger in the magical world, there is none in the Muggle world. By what he has read police report wise she had just appeared one day in London to later be brought to wools. 

He sits at his desk and folds his hands in front of him. This is school year is going to prove very interesting of that he is at least sure.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, Kudos, Questions, and Feedback are always welcome and appreciated.


End file.
